


Water and Pebbles

by NicknameNotFound



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Implied Ristelle - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3574527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicknameNotFound/pseuds/NicknameNotFound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Yuri had left Zaphias to go live in Dahngrest, they had promised to keep in touch by writing letters. For one reason or another, they never actually fulfilled the promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Both Flynn and Yuri have manifest personal issues; Growing up apart from each other has apparently ruined them.  
> ( ZiamZiam, Suspicious_Popsicle - thank you so much y_y ♥)
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and are obviously not mine. Unfortunately

Flynn wasn’t sure why he had accepted Estelle’s invitation. He had never been the type of guy who enjoyed parties, nor a person who liked wasting his time in group games, especially when they involved being teased and guided by the event staff’s instructions. They made him feel _extremely_ uncomfortable. When Estelle had asked him to come along, he had _known_ that Torim Harbor’s resort would have been _that kind_ of place. Gigantic pools, the sea and lines of white sun benches all over the beach, under straw umbrellas. Small luxurious one-room flats in well-kept and artistic gardens, palm trees and glamorous stony pathways brushed by beautiful flower beds. And way too much silly, animated entertainment.

Their full board was a present from their father, a way to celebrate Estelle’s graduation from high school – Flynn wasn’t sure Mr Heurassein had imagined the second ticket for that trip ending up in his hands. After way too many protests, the third one had been reluctantly accepted by Rita, a friend from Estelle’s part-time job at the Empire National Library. They departed just like that, an enthusiastic smile and a pretty flush on Estelle’s cheeks, her embarrassed and quite silent tiny friend, her four-eyed, way too tall stepbrother. Flynn had always found it hard to deny something to Estelle. He was regretting his decision now, though.

He had hoped it would have been a nice, helpful change of pace. He had just come out a complete destroyed mess from his last university semester, a long series of tiring courses that had ended in a disorienting exams session. His thesis supervisor Dinoia had been particularly demanding and that had made him struggle against time to meet every single deadline. Not to mention, professor Schwann had given him feedback on some novel chapters Flynn had sent him, and it hadn’t been that much enthusiastic, as always. He had built up so much tension and stress that his weekly visit at his college pool and gym hadn’t been of any real help. It wouldn’t have hurt to loosen up a bit, to distract himself. But Flynn hadn’t ever really been the hook up type, to begin with.

Estelle had insisted on taking him and Rita to the party the event staff had organized on the beach. She even made Flynn wear contact lenses, so that he could enjoy dancing and company without being afraid of his glasses being hit or stepped on. He wasn’t going to bother wearing lenses next time, or even coming to the party in the first place. The crowd gathered around a wide dance floor, wooden boards spread on the sand, circling a round gazebo. An incredible set of disco lights illuminated the night, making the air and seaside look like a psychedelic reunion of fairies with neon-lit little wings. Droplets of red, purple, cyan, green, and yellow moved around in an inconsistent continuous downpour. Poetic as it might sound, it was nothing Flynn could really enjoy. He ordered a Coke from the counter, trying to play dumb at the interested side-glances he occasionally received by strangers looking for a companion for the night. While Rita and Estelle had vanished in the dancing crowd in an instant, he had politely refused at least three invitations already. The memory of the last time he had danced with a girl – or danced _at all_ – was still vivid in his mind, and never failed to make him feel like a complete fool. _Dancing with you is like trying to bend an oak. It’s awful._ Sodia had never been the tactful type, but he had probably asked for it. They had been at her eighteenth birthday party, and he had ended up stepping on her feet way too many times not to spoil the fun. Moving with her around had always made him tense up; not in a nice way, but at the point that his muscles would refuse to react. What was he even doing there,  a hand in his pocket’s jeans, looking awkwardly at all of those people dancing?

Just as he started considering the idea of leaving, somebody thumped against him – Flynn found himself off-guard; he stumbled, and his grip on his cup tightened. His drink splashed all over his own t-shirt, soaking the fabric instantly.

« Fuck!» a voice came from behind him. «I’m sorry!»

As he turned around, Flynn found himself standing in front of a young man. He had long hair, kept in a smooth braid which hung from his right shoulder to his chest – as unexpected as it might be, that was the first thing he noticed about him. Apart from the fact that he had just made him drop his Coke all over his favorite shirt.

« It’s nothing,» he said, shaking his hands to get rid of some of the Coke remnants. His head was screaming _Be fucking careful next time, you little long-haired ass,_ but somehow he managed to keep calm. Estelle used to tell him he should have done something about his repressed anger issues. He tried to avoid eye-contact, hiding the fact he just wanted to leave the gazebo at once.

About to sneak away from the party, thinking about what he would have told Estelle if she ever noticed his disappearance, he tugged at his polo shirt to examine the damage. The brown stain was spreading from his stomach to his chest, darkening the light blue fabric. He hoped that would go away easily. _Fuck_. He felt like hitting something but properly pressed his anger aside where it wouldn’t hurt anybody. He had almost forgotten the culprit’s presence at his side, ignoring his shadow following  when he tried to retreat.

« Here,» the man suddenly offered, holding out his drink. « My treat. To pay you back for your Coke.»

Flynn regarded the small cup with a suspicious glare:

« What is it?»

« Baileys. Crème Caramel »

Flynn flinched, his mouth twisting in distaste:

« That’s kind, but no, thanks.»

 The other man laughed good-humoredly:

« Well, I tried. It’s not even my glass.» He took a small sip, still not very interested in the idea of going away apparently. Flynn frowned. Was this dude actually flirting or did he just want to pick a fight? He had his eyes on the wrong guy in both cases.

« Well. How very generous of you, then.»

« I’m kidding. Sorry about your Coke.»

Flynn finally looked up to face the guy, giving him a studying glance. He was slender, almost of his same height. He was wearing a tight black shirt, unbuttoned along the collar, and a pair of dark jeans which very pleasantly defined his legs; he had folded the sleeves up to his elbows to show a thick golden bracelet around his left wrist. The lines which drew his face were strong and smooth at the same time, he was a gentle wave along his nose and his mouth, and steep cliffs in his jaw and cheekbones. The lights from the little dance floor and gazebo painted his figure in purple and red flashes, making his pale skin glow. When he went up to meet his slightly almond-shaped eyes again, Flynn found something there. Something familiar and warm. Apparently, the other man was staring at him with the same interest, his thin eyebrows arched in confusion.

« Do I know you?»

He blinked a few times, humming. Flynn fixed his gaze on the small pensive pout that twisted his lips – his head was instantly filled with the sound of the river, childish chuckles and the delicious smell of his mother’s carrot pie in summer, along the street of Zaphias’ suburbs. That same pout was on a way smaller, younger, rounder face, framed by a badly-snipped bob of dark hair.

« For the Spirits’ sake,» he murmured « Yuri?»

The other man eyes widened in acknowledgment:

« Flynn?»

The sound of astonished laughter stuck in his throat, Flynn nodded. « I can’t believe this!»

He felt Yuri’s friendly and warm slap on his back as he approached to pat his shoulder – they looked at each other in disbelief, their hands lingering; Flynn suddenly felt like hugging him, but then he remembered his Coke-soaked shirt and pulled away. Yuri’s hand remained on his shoulder, however, keeping them close so that they wouldn’t need to shout in order to talk.  

« What are you doing here?» Yuri asked, his lips curved in a smile.

« I’m on a holiday with some friends.»

« Do you have a full pension at the resort? Woah!»

« What about you?»

« Same!» He laughed, examining him. « Look at you, you got _so_ tall!»

« You too!» Flynn suddenly was in a playful mood, intoxicated by Yuri’s friendly behavior. « Quite unexpectedly.»

« What do you mean? _Jerk_!» Yuri hit his arm with a fist, protesting.

Flynn didn’t really know what was making his heart twist like that, but he surely felt it start beating faster. He hadn’t imagined something like that could ever happen. The last time he had seen Yuri was when they both were twelve years old!

« Damn, man! What have you been doing all these years?» Yuri asked, before Flynn could elaborate his thoughts properly.

However, before he could answer, he saw a white hand brush over Yuri’s shoulder, long, well-kept electric-blue nails shining against the dark fabric of his shirt. Yuri’s hand abruptly left Flynn’s arm, and they parted a bit.

« What do we have here, honey?»

An astonishing woman approached him with easy movements, her purple-dyed hair kept in a neat bun and a thick cascade of little crystals falling from her ears to her collarbones. Her face was heart-shaped, her mouth looked soft like a rosebud, her eyes wore a smoky makeup that made her irises shine like diamonds. Flynn found himself staring at her, feeling extremely uncomfortable when his eyes wandered towards her breasts, hardly fitting in her way too tight blue shirt: standing beside Yuri, they just looked like a display of two extremes, both living examples of what Flynn considered _extremely_ attractive. They were perfect together, a proper fit.

« Judy, meet Flynn!» he said, motioning towards him. « Flynn, this is Judith.»

 _Is she his girlfriend?_ Assuming that was it, Flynn extended his hand for a shake:

« Nice to meet you.»

Judith’s eyes shone in interest as they laid on him again:

« Oh, it’s _my_ pleasure, I assure you.» She separated her pretty lips again to add something, but Yuri cut her off:

« Have you seen the kid?»

Flynn’s eyes widened. _Kid? Do they have a son?_ Fumbling with his thoughts, Flynn just kept still, waiting for their conversation to develop. Judy stared at Yuri for a long moment and they seemed on edge, but then she just shrugged:

« I left him with his Nan.»

« Got it. Good.» Suddenly looking in a hurry, Yuri took Judy’s hand away from his shoulder and squeezed it in his. « I suppose you wanted to dance?»

Judith looked slightly puzzled, but she nodded after a tiny while:

« You know I’d _love_ to.»

Giving her a tight-lipped, almost strained smile, Yuri threw an apologetic hand toward Flynn:

« See you around, okay? I’ll come find you tomorrow!»

« Yeah, okay.»

Almost all of his enthusiasm dying down, Flynn just stood there for a few seconds, taking in what had just happened. Had Yuri felt unhappy about him meeting Judy? Was that about the fact he was a father at twenty-two? His eyes followed Yuri’s steps as he nonchalantly led his girlfriend to the dance floor. He felt a slight disappointment kick in, and he really didn’t want to identify what exactly was causing it. He had a stained shirt to send to the laundry service. He might just pick a book and read, waiting for his sister so that they could go back to their room. He looked around to locate Estelle and he had no difficulties: he found it very much inappropriate calling her out, though. Keeping her distance from the dancing crowd, she was slowly dancing with Rita, holding her in a tight embrace. Their pace wasn’t following the music: they had their own, Rita’s face hidden in the soft crook of Estelle’s neck, Estelle’s cheek pressed fondly on top of her friend’s head. Awkwardly, Flynn looked away.  

It might have been karma, some sort of evil and subtle force trying to make that night a bit more unpleasant than necessary –as he turned around, his eyes instantly fell on Yuri again, recognizing him in the pounding mass. Luckily, he wasn’t having some indecent rubbing session against Judy’s behind like some other couples in the crowd. The two of them were certainly dancing together, but they had fit in their own spaces. And what Flynn saw when he concentrated on Yuri literally struck him.

On the dance floor, Yuri was like water.

He looked flexible, but not in an unpleasant way. His moves were a flowing succession, they connected smoothly, like gentle waves brushing the seaside and turning into a roaring seaquake. The tiny gem flashing from his bracelet drew lines of coral in the air as he flexed his arms. Every step, every rocking sway of his hips was like ocean currents blowing underwater, where the abyss is dark and unknown. The colored light streaming along his movements followed his tide, his personal moon to the waters of his limbs, changing continuously. His hands occasionally sliding all over his body were crests of foam on the edges of his bones and muscles. He was astonishing, and Flynn felt his mouth go dry. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen something that beautiful before.

Realizing he had been standing there, petrified, staring at Yuri like an idiot for more than ten minutes, he forced himself out of that immobility by clumsily pulling his soaked shirt off. He hurriedly strode away, crumpling the fabric in his hands, while the cool air of the beach hit his skin, helping. He needed laundry. And a cold shower, probably.   

\----

When the music died out to be followed by a way slower tune, Yuri stretched and moved towards the beach. Judy went after him, lightly combing her hair with her slender fingers.

« You’re so good at this, as always,» she said.

« You too.» Yuri offered a hand for a fist bump. « It’s always good to dance with you.»

Judy smiled, obliging his gesture, and was at his side in a moment.

« I actually meant at escaping situations you don’t want to explain.»

Yuri scoffed at that, brushing the topic away with a casual gesture of his hand.

« Where’s our Prince Charming?»

« Oh, I don’t know. He went after his lil princess, as I said.»

Yuri looked around, balancing his weight by placing a hand on his hip. There was no sign of Karol or of the young girl whose heart he had come here to Torim to conquer. Unfortunately, Yuri’s casual attitude didn’t deter Judy from pursuing her information gathering activity.

« Did I interrupt something nice back  there?» she asked.

Wavering over opening up to Judy about Flynn, Yuri took his time to answer. It had been a great surprise to find him there like that – that kind of coincidence didn’t even happen in movies anymore. Just thinking about it made him irrationally feel like smiling, but he refrained from showing it. Being enthusiastic might have warned Judith and after that, everything would have become unsustainable.

« A friendly reunion, I suppose? Haven’t seen him in… ten years?»

Judith graciously jumped, covering her mouth with a delicate hand.

« Oh, I’m _so_ sorry.»

« Really, Judy?»

« Do I look like I’m lying?»

Yuri sighed. He _knew_ where this conversation was heading.

« You two looked like you could get along real well,» Judy added.

« Uh-huh?»

« Just suggesting.»

Yuri rolled his eyes, catching a glimpse of the dark sky and its stars. _That_ was the very reason why Yuri had forced Judy onto the dance floor. He would have liked staying with Flynn a little more, to catch up. But Judy started that journey with the intention of finding him a boyfriend: she would have carved her pretty nails on Flynn in a moment, making him uncomfortable and flushing like a kid in less than two seconds. He really didn’t want to start his new relationship with Flynn that way, with Judy whispering in his friend’s ear little subtle secrets about Yuri’s sexual interests – he had no intention of dating anyone and he would go back to Dahngrest being single. Plus, he had a dog he had to take care of, and that was all he needed.

« But wow, being apart for ten years and you’re still fond of each other? Quite a long lasting affection you share.» She regarded Yuri with a knowing smile.

« Who said I’m fond of him? We only talked for ten seconds, thanks to you.»

« Oh, I won’t interfere next time. Cheer up.»

« What should I cheer up for?»

« You might have found the perfect partner for a long distance relationship. Isn’t he from Zaphias? I think I recognized it in his accent.»

« Oh, come on, Judy! Shut up! I’m not interested! » He found himself smiling, nevertheless. «We’re just friends.»

She paused, looking at him, pensive, but her grin was back in a moment.

« Isn’t it a lovely start?» She blinked at him, blowing him a kiss. « You look damn charming in that braid.» And with that, she was gracefully off. To go find Karol, hopefully.

Groaning, Yuri hastily pulled the elastic which kept his hair neatly tied. She had insisted on combing his hair like that, but that would have been the last of it. Long locks fell loose as he slowly shook his head to make them slip along his back. It was time for them to withdraw, and no more stupid jokes about finding partners or looking attractive. They were done infiltrating the big expensive resort’s beach party. Their cheap bed and breakfast on the other side of the road would close its door at midnight, and Yuri didn’t really relish the idea of spending his first night there sleeping with sand filling his nose and clothes. They had left Repede in their room and he wanted to take him for a walk before going to bed.

He would sneak in again the next morning, or whenever he found the chance. It seemed like Flynn had grown up into quite a handsome man, all broad shoulders and big hands. Even shy, in a way, which was almost endearing. He wanted to hear his voice without the music mixing in the background. He hoped they could talk some more in the next few days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bromantic fluff lies ahead.  
> ( perpetual gratitude goes to alicyana, ziamshrine, suspiciouspopsicle çuç ♥ )  
> Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and are not mine!

When Yuri had left Zaphias to go live in Dahngrest, they had promised to keep in touch by writing letters. For one reason or another, they never actually fulfilled the promise. Yuri had slowly disappeared from his life, leaving a hole in Flynn’s chest that he had slowly learnt to ignore. They had spent the first twelve years of their life together, sharing everything. Flynn remembered going to the river bank after Yuri had left, spending there one of the worst evenings of his life. He had felt lonely, almost abandoned despite knowing Yuri wasn’t leaving because he wanted to. His face pressed against his hands as he wiped his tears, he had tried to hide how bad he had felt. He never found someone who could replace what Yuri had been for him, even in ten years – he had never felt that much at ease with anyone else.

He had often talked to Estelle, telling her small, funny anecdotes about him and Yuri. How they would spar with wooden sticks like two knights, or go swimming in the river outside Zaphias, or meet up in the evening to have a slice of his mom’s pastries. About how they used to go to school together and eat from the same lunch box. Sometimes, remembering had been fun. Other times, it had just made him feel miserable. Yuri had become a lost wonder of the sparkly world of his gone childhood.

Yet, they had just run into each other again. Flynn couldn’t believe it. He had waited to find him around the whole day – he had spent the morning reading on a sun bench, while Estelle had showed Rita her pretty pink bikini and continued dragging her to play in the sea waves, from time to time. He had chosen a sun umbrella which was near to the gazebo, so that Yuri could easily spot him. He had stayed there, completely dressed up, shirt and Bermuda shorts, even after Estelle and Rita had left for lunch and hadn’t come back. He had even finished reading his book, a fine novel he had to review for one of his incoming exams. Yuri had come to find him that evening, out of nowhere, two red tins in his hands. He was wearing a tight dark tank top which very pleasantly defined his chest and abdomen – he had  folded his dark jeans up under his knees, showing pale, exercised calves. This time he hadn’t bothered braiding or tying his hair, which hung loose along his shoulders. He still had his golden bracelet, though, a solitary spray of color.

« Here,» he said, handing him the can mockingly. « My treat. To pay you back for your Coke,» getting his joke, Flynn accepted the offer. As he pulled out a hand and grabbed the can, getting onto his feet, Yuri leant over towards him. « Also, good evening, Blondie.»

« Good evening, Yuri.» Keeping up with him, Flynn immediately found the best way to retort. « Mister Danger.» When they were kids, they used to give each other nicknames. Those involving peril and a mystery aura had been Yuri’s favorites. Flynn had never been a sharp person, but with him it just came out naturally. Yuri was up to the challenge and immediately replied, smiling.

« White Knight.» He made a pause, opening his tin while he intensely stared at Flynn, apparently quite interested in something in particular. « I should update it, though. Sunshine,» he attempted, taking a sip from his Coke. « Hot UV Ray and Glasses.»

Flynn gulped as he drank, the fizzy Coke almost filling up his nose:

« That is way too specific. It sounds awful.»

Yuri’s amused gaze followed him as they moved toward the seaside:

« Why? I think it suits you.» He looked up, motioning his hand and can in a meditating gesture. « Way-too-bright Four-eyed Sun.»

« Would you stop?»

Yuri answered with a grin, playfully bumping his hip against Flynn’s. Before Flynn could start feeling self-conscious about that unexpected touch, Yuri had sprung across the beach, his feet raising the sand directly into Flynn’s face.

« Make me!» he shouted, running without looking back. Flynn quietly laughed. He may have become a good-looking man, but apparently he hadn’t changed one bit. He followed and joined him, sinking their feet underwater as soon as they reached the shore. The sea was cold, but Flynn found himself enjoying the temperature more than he had expected.

The way they naturally adjusted to each other’s presence after ten years of silence made Flynn feel at ease, fulfilled in a way. As absurd and relieving as it might sound, there wasn’t a hint of embarrassment or uneasiness in the way they started talking, as intimate and close as though they had never parted. He looked at him, studying the outline of his nose and the way the wind made his long hair slightly brush his cheeks. They sat on the seaside, their feet bare in the wet sand.

« So how come you wear glasses?»

« My sight has worsened,» he said. « I’m minus five near-sighted.»

« Man, Flynn, you’re a damn mole,» Yuri teased, as he started sinking his fingers in the sand and tracing some lines in it. « Way too much internet exposure or something?»

« Not exactly. I happen to read a whole lot,» Flynn replied, alternating his attention between Yuri’s face and what he was drawing below.

« Well, do not fear. You look good in them. Damn good, I assure you.»

Taking in the compliment, Flynn lowered his gaze.

« Thanks.»

Yuri had just finished drawing the outline of a face, an elementary rectangle with spiky hair, two dots as eyes, a small “c” as nose and an adorable round smile. He added the geometrical shape of glasses and hurriedly wrote “hottie!” before the backwash could erase part of his minimalist piece of art. Flynn laughed quietly, traced a straight line over the flattering comment and added some wrinkles and deep rings under the drawing’s eyes. Yuri regarded him with an inquiring look:

« You should work on your self-esteem, dude.»

Hearing the foreign Dahngrest accent in Yuri’s way of speaking was intriguing. He had a low, deep and warm voice, like the gentle echo of water roaring against the walls of a submerged cave. Despite his mocking tones, he sounded like he could lull someone into sleep in less than one minute. Flynn liked it, maybe even more than he should have. It was just kind of sad, feeling like Yuri’s new city had chewed away their Zaphias from his language.

There were so many things he wanted to ask. Small scattered pieces of a mosaic he deeply needed to fit to their proper place, until the final pattern would picture Yuri in every one of his numerous facets. He had known him like he had himself, but who was he now? Had it been hard to adjust? Where was he living? What about high school? Had he found a nice job? He really wanted to know what had taken him to get engaged and have a kid at that early age. He hadn’t expected something like that from Yuri, frankly. He dearly hoped it wasn’t some kind of unhappy mending of a reckless mistake.

« So, how long have you been with Judy?» he asked, making it sound almost casual. It had been the thing which had tormented him most, to be honest, and that most needed explanation of some kind.

« What?» Yuri grabbed his Coke to finish drinking.

« You and Judy. You two got a child, right?»

Yuri jumped, widening his eyes as he almost choked, spitting and coughing his Coke all over.

« Excuse me? Do I look like a father to you?»

Flynn looked at him, considering. Yuri grew immediately impatient:

« Seriously, Flynn? What the fuck?»

Flynn suddenly found the right words:

« You look young and wild.»

« So that’s a no, I _hope_ ,» Yuri sighed, sliding his fingers in his hair to keep them away from his face. « Judy is just a friend. And Karol isn't my son, damn.» He risked dying by choking himself again, his suffocated, intoxicating laughter making his words sound broken.

« Sorry. You two looked close.» Flynn feared Yuri might detect the slight jealousy in his tone. His friend’s grey eyes shone as he leaned towards him, a silky lock of hair sliding from his shoulder to brush Flynn’s arm:

« Woah…you’re jealous, aren’t ya?»

_Damn._ Yuri was smirking, smug. Flynn elbowed him, hoping that would help him hide his embarrassment. The idea they hadn’t grown up together still bothered him. He was happy Yuri had better social abilities than him, and that it allowed him to make new friends and adjust to Dahngrest. He had often wondered if he was doing okay, hoping his impulsiveness and bad temper wouldn’t hinder or ruin his new life – and finding out Yuri had been apparently well for the whole time was a relief, to be honest. But the idea that other people might know him better by now was just way too upsetting. _What? Do you want to blame him if you feel lonely? You’re a little shit who loves books more than people._ You _could have written to him._ Why hadn’t he ever felt like starting their pen-friendship? They might have found a way to share those ten years, even while being apart.

Thankfully, Yuri’s voice took Flynn away from his concerns.

« What about you then? Engaged and almost married to your lovely pink-haired girlfriend? I saw  you two talking before calling you out.»

How long had he waited before revealing himself? Weighing up Yuri’s tone, Flynn tried detecting the smallest trace of jealousy. He found none, but Yuri seemed quite stubborn about not meeting his gaze.

« No. She's my stepsister.» Flynn finally explained.

As he turned to meet his eyes, Yuri looked baffled:

« Plot twist! Your mother remarried, then?»

« Yeah. She’s doing fine.»

« I’m glad. Tell her I said hi, please?»

_You might come pay a visit sometime. You could tell her yourself._ Flynn felt those words fidgeting at his tongue’s end, but his mind veered toward safer shores:

« Sure.»

They stayed silent for a while. Flynn managed to finish up his Coke and put his empty tin on the small nose Yuri had drawn on his cartoonish portrait, making it look like a long, deformed extension.

« So…» Yuri was the first breaking the silence, and his voice was hesitant. «… no girlfriends in sight? I thought you were on the hunt.»

Just like whenever that particular topic was hinted, Flynn felt a little uneasy. He could have told him about Sodia – who was the only girl he had ever touched, and quite regretted touching – but he really didn’t feel like sharing that particular piece of information. He preferred vagueness and the safety offered by the untold:

« I’m not really looking for a girlfriend.»

« Oh?»

« I'm taken.» He managed a smile, hiding the truth with a witty half-lie. « A controversial relationship with my university classes.» _And with a book. A book that at this rate won’t ever be finished._

Yuri’s knowing smile cracked, and he snickered at him teasingly:

« Nerd.»

They kept talking for a long while, forgetting about time and all the other people who came to have a walk along the seashore, near to where they were nested like two accomplices telling secrets to each other. Flynn told Yuri about his studies, about Estelle, about the small flat he was living in thanks to his stepfather’s intercession. He looked quite disappointed when Flynn told him about how he and his mother had moved to Zaphias’ upper town, leaving the small house in the suburbs – but he admitted that it would have been preposterous for a wife not to live next to her new husband. Flynn accurately avoided telling him about his book, about his repressed anger issues or about the fact he had nearly no friends at all. Yuri listened to him, focused, commenting on everything, even asking questions from time to time – he just plainly evaded Flynn’s inquiries, though, continuously deviating the focus from himself to his friend. Flynn found that quite disappointing, and even maddening in a way, as he really wanted to know more about him. He gave Yuri space to breathe, trying his best not to pressure him. The small corner of seashore became theirs, a place where, aside from the two of them, nobody else in the world existed – it felt like that to Flynn, at least. Yuri kept drawing in the sand to underline or remark certain topics of their chat, transforming the sand beneath them into a small crowded canvas full of stick men or words. Flynn followed his gestures in awe, wondering – he would have patiently waited for Yuri to open up to him, without rushing things. At some point, Flynn’s stomach loudly growled. Embarrassed, he looked up to meet Yuri’s amused smirk.

« Looks like someone is hungry.»

They hadn’t even noticed the sun had started its descent to the west. Its dying rays colored the sky and the sparkling sea in deep, warm nuances. Yuri enthusiastically agreed to get some sandwiches from the gazebo counter, the one that had hosted last night’s beach party and their unexpected reunion. They had dinner sitting together, their knees brushing under the table just slightly, as they were both too tall to fit in it properly. They played a bit while they ate, trying to sneak each other’s fries from their plates – a game to which Yuri gave in, eventually, letting Flynn have the remaining potatoes. They sat there, quietly chatting, until the sky became dark enough for the staff to start lighting lanterns and small candles all around the wooden platform. As the atmosphere started getting way too exotic, somehow romantic and lounge-like, Yuri got up and headed toward the sea again. Flynn hadn’t really been bothered by the lights – he liked them way more than those disco ones from the other night, and quite enjoyed the smell of the incense sticks being lit all around him. More interested in Yuri than in the gazebo’s staging, though, Flynn decided to follow and join him.  When he caught up with him, his friend was already stripping off his tank top.

Getting where Yuri’s intentions laid, Flynn grinned:

« Up for a dive?»

Pulling the tank top out of his way, Yuri emerged from the fabric with his hair a complete mess and a crooked smile on his lips.

« Hope you can still swim, Sunshine.» He nonchalantly sank his fingers into his locks, pulling them back, gathering their length smoothly on one shoulder. The way Yuri handled his hair was a continuous wonder.

« Sure I do.» Flynn rebutted, trying not to get too distracted. « I swim regularly at my college’s pool.»

« Sooo, that’s where those shoulders come from, ah?» Yuri’s voice was full of amazement.

Flynn didn’t respond, feeling quite embarrassed as he stripped out of his shirt, his glasses getting stuck in the tight fabric. Yuri had to stop commenting on Flynn’s shape, because it made him feel watched constantly. Watched in a particular, a-bit-too-physical way.

They threw their shirt, glasses and tank top on the sand, approaching the water with just their tight jeans and loose-fitting blue Bermuda shorts on. Flynn dove in, the cool water stinging his neck and cheeks, the thriving background noise of the sea thumping against his ears. When he resurfaced, taking in a deep breath and shaking the water out of his messy hair, Yuri was there, smirking, his dark locks tied in a knot on the top of his head. The diaphanous moon and the disappearing sun kissed his neck and collarbones, soft-lighted against his skin. Flynn regretted not having worn contact lenses: his vision was blurred, and he couldn’t enjoy the sight.

« You looked like a pup.» Yuri joked, spraying him with some water from his fingers. Flynn slowly swam toward him and hit his fist in the water just under his nose, splashing him. Yuri protested with a grunt, but Flynn dove down again to avoid a new spattering attack. Suddenly, they were kids again, swimming together in Zaphias’ river like they used to.

« I would propose a race if only you weren’t wearing jeans.»

Yuri whistled, startled by the provocation:

« I can take them away if you ask nicely.» Before Flynn could reply, Yuri added: « Does it matter anyway? I can beat you with them on just fine.»

« Oh, no, I don’t think so.»  Flynn said, a bit of sassiness in his tone. Apparently, that made Yuri even more eager to take the challenge.

« Ohh,» he breathed, throatily, amused. « It’s on, now!»

In the end, they raced, swimming free style to decide who would touch the nearest buoy first. Flynn won and as Yuri caught up with him, he was playfully pressed underwater and kicked away. He recovered quickly, grabbing Yuri’s ankle before he could escape. They stayed there some more, acting silly and carefree, splashing water at each other while they swam along the buoy line which delineated the resort’s partial control of the coast. When the temperature fell, giving Flynn’s skin goose bumps, they raced again to reach the seaside – Yuri emerged from the water first, shining droplets falling from his fingers and along his back like a shower of gray gems.

« We’re even!» he exclaimed, falling down on the sand, ignoring his soaked jeans getting immediately covered in grains. He stretched, satisfied, and Flynn had to divert his attention not to be caught staring.

Putting his glasses back on, Flynn went to retrieve his things from the sun bench he had abandoned hours before; he came back to Yuri with two white towels in his hands, and proceeded throwing one on his friend’s head. Yuri murmured a soft “thanks” and immediately started rubbing his hair.

« I’ve got a dog, you know? His name’s Repede.» he said, after a while.

Flynn’s gaze on him softened slightly:

« I recall you liked puppies.»

« Yeah. I took him in from the streets when he was a whelp.» Yuri made a pause and after a while added: « I’ve been living on my own since graduating from school. Judy’s my roommate. We share the rent.»

« Oh, I see. How’s your aunt?»

« I dunno, honestly. I think she’s okay? I’ve cut ties with her.»

« Why? Didn’t you get along?»

« Mh-mh.» Yuri shrugged. « We’ve got divergent opinions. I was sick of dealing with her continuous do-not-do-this, do-not-do-that.» His lips remained parted for a bit, as if he initially intended to add something but had reconsidered.

Flynn nodded, patient.

« Sounds like something you would do.»

« Oh, I quit studying after high school. I’m sorry I can’t provide you with a proper academic conversation, here.»

Flynn regarded him with a fond look, adjusting his glasses:

« It’s okay.» Yuri was exactly what he needed to get away from the strenuous routine of academic life, so that particular trait wasn’t really a deterrent. « What do you do for a living?»

« Things.»

The intended vagueness of that answer sounded dangerously suspicious.

« Nothing illegal, I hope.»

Yuri’s scowl was sharp, well-balanced between being offended and intrigued by the idea:

« Of course not, dumbass.»

« Just to make sure,» he said apologetically, and after a while added: « Who’s Karol?»

« A kid I used to take care of. Got a baby-sitting job part-time during high school, and we got pretty close as the kid started growing up.»

Thinking of Yuri having to deal with a little boy made Flynn’s chest fill with a pleasant, amused heat. He imagined him struggling to keep a toddler’s hand away from his hair, raising him in his arms, trying to feed him with a small plastic spoon in his hand, making weird and funny sounds to make him laugh. It made him chuckle and earn a long, insistent side-glare from his friend.

« What?» he asked, looking grumpy.

« Nothing. It’s just strange thinking of you taking care of little babies.»

« Karol is not that young. He has a girlfriend, already. He’s a better adult than _you_ are.»

« You’re the one talking!»

« Oh,» Yuri gave him a challenging grin. « I’ve got my own experiences. I’m not a little naive virgin like you, Sunshine.»

Feeling his face heat up, words escaped him:

« Who says I’m a virgin!»

« Your pretty adorable cheeks heating up like flares.»

« You’re such an idiot!»

Hoping it would make the topic die easily, Flynn threw his damp towel in Yuri’s face. His friend interjected it before it could hit him and used it against him, striking his back with it as if it was a whip. It didn’t really hurt, so they both laughed softly. Flynn felt good. Yuri’s insinuation hadn’t been completely _wrong_ back there, but that wasn’t what really mattered. Yuri had opened up to him naturally – Flynn felt like he had just regained a title as reliable holder of his trust.

« Oh, and in case you wanted to know, we’re staying at a nearby bed and breakfast.»

« You’re not one of the resort’s guests?»

« Of course not, I don’t have dear daddy backing me up and paying all of my bills. I’m sneaking into your wealthy fancy parties ‘cause Karol’s maiden is on a holiday with her parents.» Yuri paused, giving him an almost embarrassed look. « Today it was just to see you. Be grateful.»

He should have been more concerned about the fact that Yuri had risked being kicked out by the resort’s security during the entire length of their day, but as he heard the last part of Yuri’s sentence, his head completely blanked out. His tone softened.

« I assure you I am. Quite a lot.»

« Good.»

They fell silent, gazing at the stars which speckled the night sky keeping the moon company. At some point, Flynn averted his eyes from constellations and planets to concentrate on something else. Yuri surely wasn’t a celestial body, but somewhat nearly as much striking as one.  

Flynn pulled out a hand, taking a thin lock of hair between his fingers. It felt like silk, still a bit damp from their little game in the water; he pressed it against his palm, a sensuous stream of petrol which shone under the pale light of the moon and stars. He fondly brushed it, curling it behind Yuri's ear. Hesitating, he kept his hand raised, suddenly wanting to touch his nearest cheekbone with his knuckles. He struggled against it and won. Yuri let him pet his hair without a word, despite the fact he used to hate it back when they were kids. He then turned just slightly to face him. The look in his eyes wasn’t irritated, just questioning, maybe a bit curious.

« I missed you.» Flynn whispered, those words coming out of him as a tiny release, like a small piece of his own personal puzzle had finally found its right location. Yuri’s almond-shaped eyes widened a bit, their amazing dark silver reflecting the stars like a downsized milky way. His lips parted a bit, pending, but he just stayed silent. That look almost gave Flynn the idea that the feeling might be mutual, but Yuri’s mockery was back in a moment, the lights in his eyes glimmering still.

« I’d miss me too.»

Flynn just laughed softly. _You little shit._

He had intended it to end there, but then Yuri slowly laid against him, his temple thumping on Flynn’s naked shoulder. Flynn felt the urge to move his arm and fold it around Yuri’s shape, keeping him warm and near, where he wouldn’t disappear again. He again won a battle against his instinct, and managed to keep still. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding like crazy, anyway.

« Ten years are a fuckload of days, you know.» Yuri whispered. There was something in his voice that Flynn couldn’t identify. It could have been regret, fondness or just plain acceptance. Flynn searched for a proper way to answer that, staying silent – he got distracted after a while, feeling Yuri’s fingertips slowly touching, gently pinching the relaxed skin along his waist. As he muffled the spring of laughter, he jumped back immediately. _That tickled_. Yuri remembered it? He hoped not.  Taking in the sight of his reaction, Yuri deviously looked at him, pulling out both hands and flexing his fingers like tiger claws.

« But some things never change, ah, Flynn?» he playfully asked, a moment before attacking again.

Flynn fell on the sand, Yuri surging over him, his fingers brushing with hard insistence along his sides. He squirmed and struggled, coughing out laughter and pleas to stop, he felt the sand getting in his hair and jeans, but he couldn’t care less. He looked up at Yuri when he finally stopped the tickle assault, at his hair in disarray after their silly brawl, his stunning face lit in amusement and affection. Flynn was sure he hadn’t felt so _alive_ and utterly happy in years. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( perpetual gratitude goes to alicyana, ziamshrine, suspiciouspopsicle ♥ )  
> Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and are not mine!

The day Yuri had to leave Torim and go back to Dahngrest finally arrived. Flynn’s holiday would continue for a few more days, so he would have to watch his friend leave first. It had been a long week and a half – being with Yuri made time flow differently. Sometimes they had just watched it pass by in an instant, other times the clock had seemed to tick slower, seconds and minutes faltering, unwilling to let go.  Flynn had never wished so much for time to pause and move in slow motion – but Yuri sometimes just made it happen by being there with him, smiling, sarcastic, staying silent, listening, just simply fitting in the place Flynn had unconsciously kept empty for him, at his side, through all those years. They had been meeting at least once a day, every day, and Flynn hadn’t really ever got tired of Yuri’s company. He had just found himself silently thanking Estelle and her insistence about dragging him along. He hadn’t imagined he would have ended up enjoying that week at Torim Harbor that much – and that surely didn’t involve any of the resort activities.

Even though Yuri had been extremely stubborn about keeping Flynn away from Judith and Karol – Flynn still couldn’t grasp the reason behind that – Flynn had managed to take him to meet Estelle and Rita, at least. Their encounter had been brief but had left Flynn with a good sense of accomplishment, as if his past and present had found a new balance. Estelle had been polite and welcoming as always, even if a bit too concentrated in pointing out how many times Flynn had talked to her about Yuri. That had made Flynn blush and hope she would quit it before Yuri could use any of those anecdotes as new material to tease him. Rita hadn’t been that friendly. “How do you even stand that guy?” had been her comment, late after the meeting had ended, but Flynn had shrugged it off with a laugh. Yuri was that type of guy people had to learn how to deal with, with a bit of perseverance.  

The morning of his last day in Torim, Yuri appeared before Flynn just after breakfast, his hair tied into a high, neat ponytail. He had an enthusiastic and impatient gleam lighting up his dark grey, slanting eyes, as he grabbed Flynn’s wrist and dragged him along. He wanted him to meet Repede. The resort had a green park, built all around the main building – it was a fancy garden with artificial lakes, arched bridges and lotus flowers floating on the water’s surface, willows and maples, artistically shaped bushes in an ornamental Yumanju style.

The dog had been patiently waiting near a tree, sitting with his black leash loose around the trunk, and raised both of his pointy ears as soon as he sensed them approaching. Raising to meet Yuri with an enthusiastic tail wagging, he licked the palm of his hand welcome back. Repede was a big husky with a shiny grey and white thick fur, green eyes and a fluffy, long tail. He had a black collar with silver studs around his sturdy neck. Flynn was more of a cat person, and hadn’t really imagined Repede being such a _huge_ dog. He hesitated approaching him at first, just watching Yuri being at ease, kneeling next to an animal which was almost one third of his own height.

« Repede, this is the ‘Flynn’ we’ve been talking about.» Yuri motioned a hand towards Flynn, and the dog’s tail immediately stopped as emerald fierce eyes fixated on him, waiting. Given how eager Yuri had been about organizing their first meeting, Flynn gathered he considered the two of them interacting a rather important, indispensable step in their relationship. He tried his best not to look on edge. Forcibly setting his worries aside, he managed to warily kneel next to Yuri, still some safety inches away from the big animal. Looking confused, Repede bent his head to the side and huffed.

« Come on, let him sniff you. He’s a good pup, he won’t bite.» Yuri assured, before adding with a slight smirk: « Unless you deserve it.»

Flynn pulled out a hand and Repede approached him, his humid nose brushing Flynn’s knuckles just slightly. He might have passed the dog’s trust examination, because he mildly started licking his hand. Yuri looked satisfied.

« I knew he would like you.» He started petting Repede along his back, proud, so Flynn didn’t really understand who he had been talking to. His hand still cautious, he tried to pet the dog between his ears – Repede lapped his own muzzle, whined and yawned, then apparently got impatient and moved his head under Flynn’s palm. As he started gently scratching his fur, Repede narrowing his green eyes in approval, Yuri rewarded Flynn with an amused side-glance.

« Don’t be scared. If Repede likes you, you’ll become friends in no time.» The dog suddenly barked, as to stress and confirm what his master had just said.

« He’s a beautiful dog.» Flynn pointed out, and Repede started wagging his tail again. Yuri immodestly preened, as if the praise had been for his own looks.

They settled under the tree, Flynn quietly watching as Yuri started playing with his dog. The morning sky was filled with the sound of birds chirping, and the muffled echo of children playing in the distance. Yuri had left the leash and his cell phone on the grass, next to Flynn – the game he was playing with Repede involved a bit of running, abrupt twirls and the dog jumping, his paws playfully trying to push Yuri down in the grass. The animal managed to make him fall, eventually – Yuri landed with a sharp _oouff_ , and had to fight Repede as he jumped on him to profusely lap his face. Yuri managed to take the dog off him by engaging him in an enthusiastic belly rubbing session – Repede laid on his back, barked, his tail wagging like crazy, Yuri laughing as he started to fondly pet his fur. Flynn found himself watching in silence, almost entranced, his chin resting on the tip of a bended knee – he lazily wondered if he had ever watched something that adorable in his whole life, then imagined Yuri pinching his cheek hard for having paired him with such a sweet term. It was sad to think that being with him like that would be ending in a couple of hours. Flynn had done his best not to get too emotional about it – not to make Yuri detect his childish melancholy and grow tired of him. Yet, he couldn’t really quite control his emotions. He just kept them hidden, even though that made his skin crawl in need of release. Yuri’s temper couldn’t really be listed under the _patient_ label. Flynn hoped they would be able to remain close, maybe even get closer, despite the fact that might require more effort.

After a while, as Yuri and Repede got tired of their little game and moved to come back under the tree, Yuri’s mobile started buzzing. The name of a certain _Zagariel_ appeared on the screen as Flynn leant forward to take a peek – Yuri sat in the grass next to him, stretching his limbs, dusting himself off. He completely ignored the cell phone, letting it move on the grass with the motion of its vibration like it didn’t exist.

« You’re not going to get that?» Flynn asked after a while, confused.

« No.» Yuri’s tone had no hesitation.

Flynn’s eyes moved toward the mobile again, which was still insistently shaking.

« Maybe you should? What if it’s about something important?»

Yuri nervously clicked his tongue:

« I assure you it’s not.»

When the vibration finally died out and the screen flashed with a lost-call notification, Yuri grabbed his mobile.

« Flynn, let’s take a picture. Repede, you too.» The dog huffed in response, obediently approaching Yuri on the grass.

« Who’s Zagariel?»

« Don’t think about it.» As to enforce the meaning of his words, Yuri pulled out and put a hand around Flynn’s shoulders, dragging him closer for the photo. Flynn felt like touching and gently rubbing his friend’s back, to feel his body’s warmth, but once again he refrained from doing it. That small contact made his focus shift entirely, though, erasing the stranger’s name from his mind as he got a bit too self-conscious about Yuri’s body against his own.

Flynn reluctantly looked up to meet the camera. He hadn’t ever really loved appearing in photos. Nevertheless, watching the way the three of them perfectly fit into the small frame of the screen made his posing smile come out quite natural and heartfelt. A clicking noise immortalized their faces and a muzzle, freezing an instant into eight megapixels. Even after the picture was taken, Yuri didn’t pull away. Keeping him near, he showed him the result on his mobile’s display.

« Look, we’re damn photogenic.»

Flynn wasn’t really sure he could agree on that, seeing as the sun had hidden one of his eyes under a light reflection on his glasses, but still liked the picture a whole lot. Yuri was smiling, his cheek pressed against Repede’s head, relaxed.

« Send it to me, later.»

« Sure.» Yuri snickered. « Your mobile will have its awesome level increased of a good eighty percent. You’ll have Repede in it.»

Flynn laughed, adjusting his glasses. They would surely keep in touch this time. There was nothing he should worry about, really. They would to say _goodbye_ to each other soon, but Flynn knew that would be just the start for a long, lasting series of _good morning_ ’s.

\---------

They agreed to meet again at night, after dinner, so that they could have a last walk along the seashore. It had become almost a habit, performed every night since the first. It was a good way to  be together and chat without them worrying too much about the resort’s staff asking about Yuri’s room number. Flynn had once joked about Yuri being a princess whose beauty-spell would disappear before midnight – that innocent jest had made Yuri elbow him so hard that it had sent him splashing into the sea with all of his clothes on.  After a long moment of outraged pouting and faltering apologies, Yuri had looked at him and had just burst out laughing. That was the only reason why Flynn couldn’t regret having called him Cinderella.

The resort’s staff had organized another beach party for that particular night. When Flynn finally reached the gazebo, having excused himself from Rita and Estelle after dinner, he found it sparkling in red and magenta small bulbs. It had to be something Efreet inspired, because the bar tender and the waitresses were wearing red outfits, tiny horned hats, orange palmate tails hanging from their little skirts. As special and well-organized as it may look, Flynn found himself silently groaning in abhorrence. That was _way_ too flashy for his tastes. The music in the background was a deafening cacophony, the Mad Percussion Quartet featuring ten out-key electronic consoles from Hell. Doubting Efreet would approve what was happening on that beach, Flynn’s gaze immediately wandered to the dancing crowd to locate something more of his liking.  

Yuri and his companions were infiltrating the _wealthy_ _fancy party_ again. As they suddenly popped out of the moving mass, Flynn drank in the sight of his friend laughing with Judith, panting with the strain of the dance. A sense of fondness and delight surged through Flynn immediately, an overwhelming wave that he feared drowning in. A pity he had missed seeing him move again on the dance floor. Yuri raised his gaze, his eyes glimmering as if he had heard a voice calling his name; he caught his friend staring, their looks locked in midair and Flynn found himself holding his breath. A smile making his features look sweeter and calm, Yuri raised a hand to greet him. 

As he motioned to go after Flynn, Judith grabbed his arm, pulling him close to her, whispering something in his ear. Flynn felt the woman’s eyes on himself the whole time, until Yuri got tired of it. He shook his head and just parted from her with a slight frown – he joined Flynn in a moment.

They moved away from the gazebo, walking through the wide extent of sand. Flynn listened to Yuri’s breathing until the rhythm of his respiration had slowed down.

« Were you two having fun?» he asked, still a bit sore about not being able to watch Yuri dance again before they would part. Yuri nodded, a small smile flashing on his face.

« Yeah. The music was good and got me and Judy inspired.» He stretched, relaxing.

Flynn couldn’t really agree over the quality of the music, but sill nodded:

« I’m glad.»

Yuri studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

« I don’t think I have ever seen you on the dance floor.»

« Oh, I’m not the dance floor type.»

« What makes you define yourself _not-a-dance-floor-person_ , exactly?» Yuri investigated, suddenly curious.

« I can’t dance.» Flynn bluntly answered.

«…oh.» Yuri rolled his eyes, a smirk on his lips. « Have you ever actually tried?»

« No, I mean,» Flynn fidgeted. « I just know I can’t.»

« Bullshit. Everybody can dance. It’s just about moving your body. Relaxing.» Yuri gently slapped Flynn’s arm. « Come on, I’ll show you.»

« I’ve seen the way you move already.» Flynn found himself admitting it, and fiercely hoped darkness could hide his cheeks flushing. Yuri paused for a moment, gave no sign of noticing, then just proceeded grabbing his wrist, pulling him closer.

« Then I’ll teach you.» Yuri’s hands were on Flynn’s hips before he could even start protesting.

« I----I’m honestly not quite sure this might be the best idea,» he managed, as Yuri approached him and started slowly moving – they were so near that Flynn could smell Yuri’s scent, something salty and fresh.

« We’re not at _Nordopolica’s got talent._ Keep up!»

Flynn had no idea of what they were doing. He just stood there, his feet in the sand, still like stone while Yuri forced his fingers along his waist, trying to make him mimic the very inviting and not very chaste movements he was drawing his own body into. He looked like he was just moving casually, his legs and torso swaying in gentle waves.

« Come on. Just relax. I’m the only one here.» Yuri’s voice came out low and calm, just like a master trying to guide his inexperienced pupil. _Embarrassing._

Flynn was not sure, but _that_ was probably the reason he just couldn’t feel at ease. He had watched Yuri dancing before, and that had made him feel something become really hot in the pit of his gut.

Yuri slapped his hip, hissing at him, then rubbed his thumb under the hem of Flynn’s shirt, against his skin – what was probably meant as a reassuring gesture, turned out to be quite intimate.  Flynn shivered, but after that something in him clicked. Yuri wanted him to relax? _So be it_. He let his own hands slide along Yuri’s shoulders, stopping on the straight, strong line of his waist – he looked up to meet Yuri’s gaze, found his grey eyes there, waiting for him to give him his trust. He was extremely clumsy and embarrassed at first, feeling his ears become hot. He slowly adjusted to his friend’s pace, and after a few seconds Yuri was not just moving on his own – Flynn wouldn’t have been able to describe what kind of dance they were both performing, actually, as they just stood there, grinding slowly towards each other, moving few steps that wouldn’t really take them anywhere, if not an inch closer. The music from the gazebo was a muffled echo, buzzing in the distance. Their bodies found a synchronization of their own, so natural that it made Flynn’s hands tremble in need – sometimes they touched, unintentionally, brushing against each other just slightly. He realized, as they both stayed silent and moved together like nothing really mattered in the world anymore, they probably looked like a couple. There was something in the way they adjusted to each other that made that little silly dance intimate – it made him think that two lovers making love might just look like they looked in that exact moment, in silence, responding to each other’s movements.

They never really broke eye contact, but after some time Flynn found himself lost and gave up – he leaned closer, pressing his lips to Yuri’s for a brief moment. He had feared rejection, that Yuri might stop their dance abruptly and flee - he looked at him, expectantly, eyes half-lidded, so near that he could feel the other’s breath over his skin. They stayed there for a moment, in a weird tensed balance, both their hands on each other’s hips. When Flynn tried to approach Yuri again, he saw him slowly close his eyes and his lips were met with a languid kiss. They had a third, a sloppy fourth that ended with a tiny smooching sound. Their awkward and wonderful dance put to an end, Flynn felt Yuri’s hands glide to his chest, over his shoulders, around his neck, where he gracefully intertwined his own fingers for support. He tried to deepen their fifth kiss and was met with no small enthusiasm, feeling Yuri’s tongue brushing tentatively against his, along his lower lip. He tasted like caramel Baileys and Flynn was suddenly hit by a strong doubt about his professed distaste of cream liqueur.

« Who said you sucked at dancing?» Yuri’s voice was hoarse. Flynn gave him just a brief moment to speak, and he was after his lips again. He kissed him until he almost forgot the question, and as he felt Yuri’s curious eyes on him, distracting him, he forced his mind to elaborate an answer.

_Sodia. My ex-girlfriend. My first and last girlfriend._

« Nobody important, actually,» he breathed, brushing the tip of his nose against Yuri’s cheek, placing a small kiss over his jaw line.

« Whoever they were,» pulling apart just slightly, Yuri smiled crookedly, « they just didn’t know how to handle you correctly.»

Flynn would have truthfully enjoyed staying with Yuri like that for another couple of hours. He felt the warmth of his palms against his scalp and was restraining himself from letting his own hands wander. They were about to exchange some more silent kisses when they heard voices coming from the shore. They stopped, and Flynn saw his friend’s eyes widening a bit, stare at him for a moment with an unreadable glow in them. Yuri’s hands left his neck as he hurriedly pulled away. The air instantly felt a bit cooler. 

Yuri hastily moved toward the sea, distancing himself. They always moved like that, Yuri deciding where to go and Flynn following a moment later, going after him to keep up with his pace. Flynn felt a bit light-headed, his footsteps sinking in the sand as if it could engulf him whole in a moment. Touching Yuri had made him feel pretty nimble, a sensation he really wasn’t used to – he had felt his whole body become extremely light, as if Yuri’s touches had somehow taken away half of his weight. Far from Yuri’s arms, even moving was hard, constraining, a stone strenuously trying to advance on a flat surface. As he reached him, Flynn reached out a hand, wondering if holding Yuri’s fingers would have the same effect as kissing him.  He hadn’t really ever felt a longing so strong for touching someone, like the one he was experiencing in that very moment.

« That was pretty lame, uh?»

Those words made Flynn stop, draw back his hand and stare at Yuri’s shoulders in bewilderment:

« What?»

« Us. Getting all cheesy, back there.»

Flynn blinked a few times, confused. He hadn’t really had the time to give definition to what had just happened. He had just enjoyed the moment. He even had the honest impression Yuri had felt the same. How could he call what had happened inauthentic?

« Why are you talking like that, all of a sudden?»

« I mean, come on, look at us.» Yuri moved a hand between them. « Do I look like romance material? Do you? »

Flynn studied him from head to toes, slowly following the neat lines of his body, the soft flow of his hair and the infuriating and still quite adorable pout of his mouth. Mouth which he had just discovered being warm and soft, and something he would gladly kiss again, an indefinite number of times. He didn’t know what Yuri was thinking about him at that point, but his answer popped into his mind with no difficulties: _Yes, definitely_. He kept it to himself. He didn’t like how the conversation was going.

« Why not?» he asked, wary.

« Sap gives me headaches. And, generally talking, so does _love_.» Yuri said the last word like it was something distant and foreign, something he wanted to keep away from himself.

Why had he brought up that topic in the first place? They had just briefly kissed, a natural follow up of an extremely teasing activity that _Yuri_ himself had insisted starting. Flynn hadn’t even suggested dating or anything. He felt a bit of rage quietly surge in the pit of his stomach as he furiously tried to understand what the heck Yuri was thinking.

« I…I think everybody should try falling in love at least once in their life,» he said at last, not even sure those were the right words to keep up.

« You’ve grown up into quite a dreamer, haven’t you?» was how Yuri replied. Flynn tried to follow the outline of his speech, miserably failing.

« What do you mean?»

« I think love is unnecessary. I don’t get all the fuss people have thrown at romance so far. Do they never get sick of it? I mean, people can live without it just fine.»

« Well…that’s not true.»

« Why not? I know _I_ can.»

« How?»

« I don’t need it. That’s all.»

Flynn hesitated. Disappointment took over, surrounding him in a heavy and suffocating grip. Why had he felt such an urge to let him know that? He had been so damn secretive about himself until that moment – why spurting all this out _now_? Was he just regretting having kissed him, and wanted to make things clear between them? Wasn’t it a bit too early, talking about _love_ as if Flynn had asked him to fucking marry him?

« Maybe you should just give it a try.» Flynn attempted, still blindly fighting to get a grip on the situation.

« I _honestly_ don’t think so.» Yuri shrugged. « I’m fine being on my own.»

Flynn nodded slowly, something deep down his chest burning. He couldn’t find the right words or will to retort. He didn’t even feel like it would have been right to insist on the matter.  And with that, the conversation was over.

They stayed silent, the mood completely spoiled. Flynn found himself lost in thought, his body tensing up more and more as his feelings just crowded his mind in disorder, leaving him with a utter sense of annoyance. It hampered him from enjoying his last moments in Yuri’s company – when the time for goodbyes came, there was still tension between them. Flynn couldn’t even understand _why_.

« It’s been fun.» Yuri looked at him, bending his head just a bit on the side. « I’m glad you’re okay, Flynn.»  That sounded rushed and irked.

He hadn’t even suggested exchanging numbers. Why was he suddenly trying to run away from him? That just didn’t make any sense. If the problem had been the kisses, fine, they wouldn’t kiss ever again. _He’s going away again. He’s going to leave you._ The idea just made Flynn almost freak out in anxiety.

« Please, let’s keep in touch,» he murmured, his tone begging.

Yuri hesitated, his expression abruptly changing into a wary glare:

« Why?»

That hurt.

« I don’t want to lose a friend again.» Flynn faltered.

That seemed the right thing to say, because Yuri’s diffident stare softened into a lopsided grin:

« You still suck at making friends, uh?»

Flynn forced a smile, nodding slowly:

« I suppose so.»

Falling silent, they exchanged their mobile numbers and emails. What about their friendship? Was a week really enough to make up for ten fucking years of silence? What about what had happened between them? To Flynn, it had all seemed so… just natural. Did Yuri even care? Was it really necessary to make their week together end like _that_? Flynn felt himself practically burning in anger. Yuri had clearly flirted, from beginning to end. He had teased, not even that subtly as he had probably intended. If Flynn hadn’t felt like his attentions were reciprocated, it wouldn’t have ended in them smooching like doves. Maybe Yuri had just been fooling around and regretted it. Flynn kept quiet, feeling like a damn fool. He couldn’t even find it in him to shout at Yuri and blame him for being a complete, incomprehensible asshole. Was it because they were both men? As if Flynn would even care about _that_. He just stayed there, silent. He couldn’t let their complete clumsiness ruin what could have become a great, new friendship, not now that they had found each other again. Flynn wouldn’t let Yuri leave him once more, not because of something that trivial.

Folding his black mobile and sinking both his hands into his pockets, Yuri gestured toward him, a smooth up thrust of his chin.

« Take care.»

« You too.»

Yuri rose a smile that Flynn couldn’t find it in him to reciprocate. He nodded and waved slightly, following Yuri’s slender silhouette as he walked away. He waited for him to look back, disillusioned, until he completely faded in the night’s darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flynn knows how to play his cards right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( A thousand thank you, alicyana, ziamshrine, suspiciouspopsicle ♥ )
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and are not mine!

The first two weeks after coming home from Torim Harbor had been the least disappointing. Flynn  had started by texting Yuri from time to time, sending him _good morning_ s or _good night_ s whenever he had popped into Flynn’s mind. Yuri’s responses had always been a bit delayed and unstressed, almost ascetic. Yuri turned out to be extremely off-putting, to say the least. He behaved in such a brusque manner that Flynn started doubting he had ever really cared about the two of them rekindling their friendship. He had answered his calls once – just _once_ , in the time span of a month. They had managed to talk for less than an hour before Yuri had ended up getting distracted and asking if they could have that chat later.

Except for that one time, he had just been excusing himself for not responding, sending a text about being busy and promising to call again as soon as possible, which he persistently seemed to forget doing. Flynn had tried his best not get too pissed off at that attitude, given the fact that he himself had been quite busy with studying, reading and preparing his thesis. Yuri had certainly been in need of space to breathe, and Flynn had had no intention of imposing himself on his friend if that company would end up pressuring him. Flynn had tried so _damn_ hard to keep in touch with him.

At one point, Yuri just stopped answering his calls or replying to his texts. After almost a month of silence or unrequited attempts at conversation or contact, Flynn stopped trying. He slowly rolled into dejection, after that, in extreme frustration, and finally all of his bad feelings tumbled and crashed into him, leaving him breathless in a disenchanted pit of anger. If only he had had a satisfying way to let off steam and cool down, the whole matter would have been definitely less destructive on his mood and attitude. He had increased the number of hours spent in the pool, furiously fighting the water’s density and the way it weighed on his shoulders and muscles. That, unfortunately, had just barely helped – falling half-dead and exhausted on the bed would make him fall asleep instantly, but all of his worries would be back first thing in the morning. Not to mention, he couldn’t obviously find the right moment or will to sit at the desk and try going on with his novel.

He discovered the painting exhibition by sheer coincidence. He had gone to college to meet with professor Dinoia to talk about some issues in his thesis’s fourth draft. After the meeting, he stopped by the library to give back some books and had to go through the main hall to reach the college parking lots. It was a wide, circular room with a shiny marble pavement, white statues of angels stationed against the wall. Ten or twenty paintings had been arranged on slender easels, between the sculptures. Flynn approached them, curious, to escape from boredom. It was not the first time his university had hosted some kind of art exhibition.

The paintings turned out being pretty colorful illustrations. They all had some kind of dreamy, imaginative atmosphere, a recurring leitmotif. There were enchanted forests inhabited by fairies and unicorns, princesses and magical creatures dancing in beautiful and green gardens, flowers blooming along pretty, well-combed blonde hair. They all looked alike, to be honest, with their spring inspired colors and rainbows. Flynn moved his attention toward the only one that actually seemed a bit different – it had darker tones. The artist had been apparently eager to manifest his liking for night skies.

Two figures were standing on the surface of a lake, their feet touching the water just barely, as if they were light enough not to even ripple it. A man dressed in white was holding a child’s hand; he was blonde, an elegant almost regal attitude in the line of his shoulders and upright back. His clothes glimmered in small sapphires and embroidered decorations – the details were so accurate that Flynn could almost trace every single, precise curve the artist had painted on that white oil-colored fabric. The child looked quite humble, his naked arms and legs skinny, a short mop of black hair clashing with his pale skin. He was crying, looking up at the deep cover of the night sky, his teary eyes wide, expectant. Following the smooth gesture of the man’s arm, every single one of his tears seemed to crystallize, frozen little diamonds flowing up to meet the stars. In the background, the stunning colors of an aurora borealis shone in six different nuances of blue and emerald, overlapping veils dancing in the wind – the stars spread all over it, it cast its reflection on the lake’s surface, a mirror of colors and shadows.

Flynn stared at it in wonder, taking in the glow and the variation of colors, the soft magical aura that they emitted like dying gleams of a forgotten, long gone dream. If the artist had been less talented, the whole picture might have ended up looking excessive. But his strokes had managed to convey gentleness, the soft shades of blue and aquamarine smooth and delicate, a small window open on a fascinating, upside down, underwater reverie. Curious, peeking into that starlit aquarium with his chest filling with an unexplainable nostalgia, Flynn searched for the artist’s name. His mouth got dry as soon as he found it.

_Yuri Lowell, Dahngrest. Oil on canvas, illustration of the tale_ Prince of Starlight _by Duke Pantarei._

That seriously shocked him. He stared at the little golden plate, studying the way the letters of Yuri’s name had been carved in it and looked full of pride in their mere shape. He just couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

His attention alternated between the author label and the sparkling melancholic marvel of the painting. Was it even possible? From exactly which part of Yuri’s sensibility had _that_ come from? Flynn’s mood plummeted. He really didn’t know Yuri that much, and if things continued as they were going, he wouldn’t have the chance to change that. He hadn’t even ever told him anything about participating in the contest. Was he an artist? And such a great one?

He felt the urge to know more about the whole matter. He searched for the person responsible for the exhibition, which happened to be Sylph Khroma, professor Dinoia’s assistant. She was an extremely good-looking, dark-skinned woman, round emerald eyes and silky, long dark hair. She had the Wind Spirit’s name and had a reputation of living up to it – Flynn had seen her completely destroy some of his colleagues’ confidence with a single, starting question. It had been Flynn’s first exam, and despite him being prepared enough to meet her expectations, the memory of her strictness still managed to make him quiver.  Flynn found her with no difficulties, seated at her office’s desk.

« I didn’t know you were interested in children’s tales, mister Scifo,» was miss Khroma’s first remark, looking at him from behind her elegant silver glasses. Flynn immediately felt uncomfortable.

« Wasn’t it kind of…fantasy literature inspired or something?»

« The _Entelexeia Press_ is holding a contest to pick an illustrator for Duke Pantarei’s new book. The winner should be announced in days.»

« Oh. I see.» Flynn was suddenly hit by an imaginary vision of Yuri, stains of colorful paint all over his pale face, his brush tracing little stars and sparkles on a blue canvas, while a kid cheerfully chuckled, impressing a small red handprint against his cheek. That was painfully endearing and made Flynn’s attention shift.

« Were you interested in something in particular?» Khroma asked again, growing impatient.

« No…well, I got quite entranced by the _Prince of Starlight_ one, to be honest.»

« Oh. What was the name?»

« Lowell.»

« Oh, yeah, he came here and submitted it something like one day before the closing deadline. He almost risked being left out, and that would have been a pity.»

« Excuse me…he came here in person?»

The woman looked at him for a moment.

« Yes, of course. The contest application method required the participants to be interviewed by the judges, so artists gathered here from all over Terca Lumireis. All of the applicants were kindly asked to participate to the prize-giving ceremony regardless of the result, so I suppose you would still find him in town.»

_What?_

« Do you happen to know where Lowell is staying?» Flynn really didn’t know how he managed to keep his voice calm.

Khroma looked at him with an inquisitive glare.

« Why do you want to know?»

« He’s… he’s a friend of mine.» Flynn hated the doubtful accent he gave to those words.

\------

Yuri had apparently been staying at _The Comet_ , a cheap hostel in the suburbs of Zaphias. Flynn had to drive for almost an hour before reaching the right address, after getting lost at least twice in the mazy chaos of the lower quarter streets. Awkwardly and quite angrily knocking at the door, he heard a muffled barking sound coming from inside, some soft words and heavy thumping of feet on the floor. After at least five minutes, following a second session of very insistent hitting on the damn door, Flynn finally heard the inhabitant’s hoarse voice muttering “Yeah, wait a sec.”

Yuri appeared at the entrance with his feet bare, comfortable black trousers and a loose-fitting sweater with a broad neck line. Despite Zaphias’ air having started to get chillier, he looked completely at ease in those clothes, his hair half-tied into a messy bun, naked throat, collarbones and all. It looked like he had just been abruptly woken up from a nap, and that made Flynn feel quite less sorry than he should have been. Scratching his neck and caught mid-yawning, Yuri met his friend’s glare and stopped in utter confusion.

« Flynn? What are you doing here?»

« Said the very much shifty Dahngrestian.» those words came out very much more passive-aggressive than originally intended. Yuri’s expression immediately turned cautious, as he leant on the frame door. He was apparently fully awake now.

« Woah, it’s good to see you too. »

« May I come in?»

It hurt to see him hesitate. They had been on such good terms back in Torim that it made Flynn’s chest ache by just reminiscing. Finally, Yuri slowly moved from the entrance with a graceful up thrust of his hip, a mocking welcoming gesture ushering him in.

« After you.»

The room was extremely small. Dusty moss green carpet, a single bed alongside the wall, a small rectangular window opening up onto the suburb’s streets. Yuri’s belongings were chaotically spread all over, his clothes gathered on the mattress’ undone sheets, a pile of notebooks and wide folders scattered on a small wooden desk. Other than that, Flynn saw the closed door of a bathroom, the slightly peeled off wallpaper, an old-looking armchair on which Repede was sitting, his tail wagging to greet him. If only he hadn’t been so damn furious, Flynn would have liked to reciprocate his attentions with at least some scratching – the animal’s master’s assholery had made that impossible, unfortunately. The dog seemed to perceive Flynn’s emotional turmoil and sat still, lowering his head against a padded armrest. Yuri closed the door behind him, the muffled sound of his footsteps thumping on the moquette as he moved back in the room.

« So? What’s up?» he asked, leaning against the small desk. He seemed totally at ease.

Was he even conscious of what he had done? Flynn looked at him, puzzled.

« It’s good to know that the only way to be aware of your whereabouts is by asking my supervisor’s assistant,» he explained.

Yuri appeared to slowly consider his words, his face motionless. After a while, he blinked a few times, as if reaching a sudden realization.

« Oh. Does that mean you study at the Sword Stair University? You didn’t tell me that.»

_Oh well, fair enough. At least it wasn’t a detail left out on purpose!_ Flynn felt his palms burn, itching. He repressed his impulses and tried to control the tone of his voice.

« I do. I happened to see the exhibition,» he muttered.

Yuri’s eyes wandered away from Flynn.

« Jeez, what kind of shitty privacy security do Zaphias’s institutions have, by the way? Giving out the participants’ addresses to the first dude asking?»

Cutting off that bad attempt at diverting the flow of their conversation, Flynn immediately pressed on. He managed to ignore the fact Yuri had just defined him a random guy with no importance whatsoever.

« How long have you been in Zaphias?» His voice came out trembling, a bit deeper than usual.

Yuri seemed determined about not looking at him, and just plunged his hands into his trousers’ pockets. His face was unconcerned.

« One week. Maybe two.»

_That_ long? Flynn felt his nails digging hard into his palms.

« You could have called me.»

Yuri sighed and rolled his eyes.

« I’ve been busy, Flynn. I was going to contact you as soon as all the contest thing would be over. I even had to change my mobile contact.»

_Another thing that would have been good to know!_

« You’ve got my number for a reason. You completely stopped replying to my texts or calls either.»

Yuri’s expression abruptly darkened, getting almost menacing:

« What, now? You’re gonna pester me about not answering every fucking single one of your texts?»

« No, it’s not just about texting me back.»

« Then what do you want?» Yuri’s tone was sharp. For some reason, that made Flynn try to soften his own.

« Why didn’t you tell me?» He motioned to approach him but Yuri pulled away, a cat with his back arched. « I could have helped you. Finding a place for you to stay and - »

« Listen, I didn’t want to be a bother to anybody.» Yuri interrupted, his brows furrowed.

« You are no bother, Yuri. Not to me. You’ll never be.» That was the truth, and it came out more desperate than expected. Flynn felt his face heat up a bit. Yuri’s curt reaction had scared him – his friend looked like he could slip away at any minute, without him even noticing. That fear pressed his anger down, suffocating it until it became just a low vibration, the tenuous grumbling of rocks fighting not to start a landslide.   

« Listen, I’m sorry.» He withdrew, ungainly adjusting his glasses «I’m really happy to see you, actually.»

Yuri didn’t tell anything at first. He just stood there for a while, in silence. Then he sighed and moved toward a small frigobar.

« Want a Coke?»

Relieved, Flynn gratefully nodded. The last thing he needed in that moment was his friend kicking him out of his room.

« Thank you.» He accepted the tin Yuri offered him and shivered as their fingers briefly touched. His friend’s hand was cold. He felt like pulling out his to squeeze it, to heat it up a bit – an idea that came up despite him being still so damn mad at Yuri. He refrained from touching him again, obviously. He still feared Yuri could fully confirm being uninterested in restoring their bond.

After a few moments of silence, Flynn opened his can, trying to ease up the mood.

« How come you chose to stay in the lower quarter? My university is far from here.»

« This is the only Zaphias I know.» Yuri motioned toward the window. Those words caught Flynn totally unprepared. He took them in, falling silent, a small bit of his heart pleasantly warming up. Those were the streets they used to run across as kids, after all.

« You didn’t tell me you’re an illustrator.»

« ‘Cause I’m not.»

« But you’re good at drawing. Extremely talented.»

« Woah, that’s exaggerating. A man back in Dahngrest happened to see one of my sketchbooks and suggested I might join his art classes during high school. He taught me the basics and I continued practicing on my own from there. I really couldn’t afford attending the whole course. That’s all.»

Flynn gathered from his hurried dismissiveness that he really didn’t want him to investigate further. That made him grit his teeth in irritation, but he managed not to push too hard. Yet, he had a lot of topics that _really_ needed some more explanation.

« Is this place expensive?»

« It’s none of your business.» Yuri shrugged. « I’ve got more than one job, and they pay me daily, so I can manage.»

He had found two damn jobs. In two weeks. And in Zaphias, where finding one had become quite hard in the last few years. He had gone as far as doing that. And all just because he would stick to not asking for Flynn’s help. He was such a _stubborn jerk_.

« Where?»

« Part-time waiter at _Leblanc’s Bistro_ , for the lunch shift _._ And after that, bar tender at the _Heracles_.»

« I know those restaurants. I live nearby.»

Yuri looked at him, arching an eyebrow.

« What about it?»

Flynn sniffed, searching for the right words to make his offer. Given how Yuri had acted towards him until that moment, he found himself quite ready to fight a possible, hasty refusal. 

« Come stay at my place. I have a an empty room you could use, a lot more space.»

Yuri immediately scoffed at that, waving a dismissive hand.

« I can’t afford a rent in the upper quarter.»

« That wouldn’t be needed. You would be my guest.» Flynn insisted.

« That’s out of the question.»

« Why? I just want to help you. You would be able to reach your working places in less than five minutes. You need to go take the metro from here, right?»

« I’m telling you. You don’t need to worry about me.»

Flynn had to breathe deeply not to speak up. He was doing his best not to be forceful, but the whole matter was making him go nuts. In his own eyes, Yuri’s behavior was bordering on complete absurdity.

« If you won the contest, you would need a permanent accommodation, wouldn’t you?» Flynn tried to move the matter on a more practical ground. « One you could comfortably work in, with proper lighting, a computer, internet connection and all.»

« I don’t want you as a roommate.»

« Why? We’re friends, Yuri. We know how to get along well.» The last day at Torim, calling him his friend had managed to restrain Yuri from escaping. Flynn wished that could work again this time. « Have I done something wrong?» As he added the last words, Flynn’s tone dropped to a whispered plea for enlightenment. Yuri blinked, his eyebrows slightly furrowing. He hesitated, then finally shrugged:

« No. You did nothing wrong.»

« Then why?»

« I don’t think that’s a good idea.» Yuri wavered. « And… I have no real possibilities of winning. Looks like the judge is a dandy with posh tastes.»

Coming out from that mouth usually perked up with confidence, that kind of admission was totally unforeseen.

« What exactly in the judge being selective makes you think you have no chances of winning?» Flynn asked.

Yuri loudly sighed, looking almost annoyed. He mindlessly started to ruffle his own messy hair.

« I’m nothing special. Many great artists have submitted their works, while I’m just a self-taught nobody with no real skills. There’s no way for me to get the job, not even one on the whole Terca Lumireis. I applied on a whim.»

Flynn looked at him.

« I actually found your painting outstandingly beautiful,» he admitted.

« Well, a real pity you’re not the one judging, then.»

« You were the one talking about improving my self-esteem! For Gnome’s sake, Yuri.»

« I know my limits. That painting sucks, really.» His voice sounded honestly resigned.

That last claim offended Flynn as if he himself had been the painter. He tried to find the proper words, a way to convey all the various and deep ways in which that illustration had touched him – but he looked at his friend and realized it would turn up being a waste of time. Yuri was going to disregard his work as trash until the very end.

« Fine. Let’s make a deal, then.»

« Uh?» Yuri lifted his head from the last sip of his Coke.

« Promise me you’ll come live at my place if you win the contest and get the job.»

Yuri briefly laughed.

« Would you quit this nonsense? Damn.»

« What are you calling _nonsense_? You’re sure you won’t get the job, right? _Not even one possibility on the whole Terca Lumireis_. So what’s the problem? There’s no likelihood you’ll have to come live with me, even if you accept the deal.»   

« You might have a point, but - »

« You know your limits better than anyone, right? You’ll just show me I was wrong, and after that you’ll be off to Dahngrest.»

Yuri got still, struck. Taking in his words, realizing he himself had just given Flynn a way to win, he narrowed his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest, tapping one foot nervously.

« You’re just wasting your damn time on this, dude.»

« I’m not. I think you might win. There’s nothing wrong in your art.»

Flynn found himself grinning. Yuri had earned himself a good amount of fully-justified spite. And one thing Flynn just couldn’t stand was hearing him talk shit about himself. He adjusted his glasses, and never felt so at ease acting smug.

Yuri slammed his empty can on the near desk, clearly growing frustrated at their argument.

« You’re trying to turn my opinions into a bet? That’s not fair, Flynn!»

« Since you think you’re doomed to fail, the challenge has _me_ at disadvantage. For you, it’s a win-win either way, a free accommodation on one hand, proving I had been wrong all along on the other. You’ve got nothing to lose. Or you could just admit you’re pretty good at it, and apologize and acknowledge _I’m right_.»

Silence fell on them, as Yuri just stood there, speechless, watching Flynn with his mouth twisted in a suffering grimace. Flynn thought he could actually see the cogs of his brain furiously working to find even a single objection to his argument, but being stuck with his own twisted beliefs and pride  made it extremely difficult. When he finally talked, the words coming out of his mouth with extreme difficulty, Flynn knew he had almost won.

«…fine,» Yuri finally conceded. « As you wish, dumbass. You’ll be disappointed. I won’t ever place not even an inch of my ass in your damn apartment, Flynn, I assure you.»

« Yeah, you’ll prove me wrong.» Flynn smiled, feeling self-confident for once. « It’s just a remote possibility, after all. It’s a deal, then?» He offered his fist to seal their pact. Yuri looked at him for a moment, wary, then reluctantly pulled out his hand to slightly bump it against Flynn’s. They used to make promises like that, back when they were kids.

« Deal. And here I am, indulging your useless little games.» Yuri mumbled.

« You could have just given up and said _sorry, I’ve got skills, you’re right_ , _Flynn_.» He tried to deepen his own voice to make it sound like Yuri’s.

« As if you were giving me a choice!» Yuri spanked his arm _hard_. Flynn refrained from letting it show.

« I don’t recall forcing you to accept,» he protested, feigning an innocent look. Yuri didn’t buy it, of course.

« You little shit! And stop looking so damn happy, I think the sparkle in those eyes of yours might just end up blinding me.» He walked around him and started shoving him away. He pushed him toward the door, both his hands pressed against his shoulder blades.

« Sorry, I suppose?» Still wearing his coat and holding the almost full Coke can in one hand, Flynn  mildly let Yuri guide him.

« Get out of this place. I’m tired of your damn rhetoric. You insufferable prick!» He gave him a last shove and a slap on his wrist. When Flynn turned to meet his eyes, Yuri wascrookedly smiling – as he reciprocated the smirk, Flynn felt his qualms lightening. The old playful Yuri Lowell was apparently back, even if for a single brief moment. That, however, didn’t prevent him from slamming the door directly in Flynn’s face.

\---

The fact was, to put it straight: Flynn Scifo couldn’t just rush into his room and act like a damn fuming, grumpy hailstone storm. Period. End of story.

Clicking his tongue as he slowly realized how easily Flynn had just completely wore him out, Yuri slumped on his bed, sinking his face in the pillow. He had had his own reasons to behave like he had during the last months. There were so many of them, and he had no intention of doing a recap. He didn’t even expect Flynn to understand him, either. But – _damn, Flynn_. That had been a quite unfair vengeance. Pulling himself up, Yuri sat on the mattress, untying his hair; it had become an inextricable tangle. He nervously combed it with his hands, ignoring the sting whenever his fingers would end up stuck in bigger knots.

Without realizing he had been scowling the whole time, he heard a whine and lowered his gaze just to find Repede watching him at his feet. Sitting, the big dog gently put his muzzle on his lap, his green eyes offering support. Yuri’s hand moved to his head immediately, petting him between his ears.

« Flynn has just played the philosopher card on me.»

Repede huffed, a soft sound that seemed almost reassuring. It earned him a grateful scratch behind his ears, which he promptly pulled back to give way to more space.

« I _know_ I would need a proper place to stay. That’s why he just totally got me there.»

It had made Yuri feel like Flynn was looking down on him, continuously reminding him how he just couldn’t afford a better accommodation. He had already searched for a bigger apartment, one that could be a good place to paint in – and Zaphias’ rent fees had just demolished his hopes. But the problem, now, was of another kind. Flynn had been a damn good orator – he had managed to shift the focus of their argument. It was about _proving him wrong_ , a gamble between them. He had been clever enough to turn the whole thing into a matter of  pride.

Asking for a promise had been a damn good guile – taking it back after giving his word would look like admitting defeat. It made Yuri feel defiled by just thinking about it.

« We’re lucky I’m not gonna get the job.» Repede kind of growled at that. « Right?»

Repede barked and shook his hand off, hurriedly pulling away from him. He made a show of his fangs, snarling, his ears pulled back and his tail outstretched up. While Yuri looked at him, he turned and left him, offended, curling up on his armchair. He was apparently ready to ignore his master for a couple of hours.

Yuri sighed, sinking a hand into his hair to pull it back. Was it _so_ hard for everyone – even his _dog!_ – to take reality as what it was, and to look at things objectively? He had just barely come out of the worst artist block ever. The recent damn Zagi guy’s insistence hadn’t really helped, and that still managed to make him get instantly nervous. He had just spent the last two years of his life without even touching a brush once, slowly convincing himself he should have just quit drawing and given up, trying to find a proper and stable job like his aunt had always wanted.

He had started sketching and drawing again after coming back home from Torim Harbor, his heart pounding in excitement as he had managed to hold the pencil in his hand without feeling like throwing up. His sketches had been quite monothematic at first, a series of scribbles he had no intention of showing to anybody, but that had ushered him to a peace of mind that he hadn’t really felt since leaving Whitehorse’s classes and his aunt’s house.

He had seen the competition announcement and had just thought of the contest theme as something intriguing. He had doodled those characters, sketched them on a canvas and had just thrown colors at it to his heart’s content. It had even turned out quite tawdry, in a way – to say that in other words, definitely crappy. He had submitted the painting to the contest just because Judy had so passionately insisted.

It was only _natural_ to doubt _The Entelexeia_ Press would accept an inexperienced rookie like him within their ranks. Flynn just couldn’t understand a _single thing_ of how those things went.

He angrily grabbed his phone, retrieving it from the top of his clothes mound, where he had left it before dozing off. He indolently started fiddling with it, trying to distract himself. Using his phone had become less stressful, since he had finally changed his number into a new one that Zagi couldn’t continuously call. He ignored the wallpaper and the stupid four-eyed dickhead smiling in it, filling one third of the space in the photo. Yuri had given him his word, but Flynn would certainly meet defeat.

He would not win the damn contest, that was a given fact. Flynn could just forget about living under the same roof and give up his damn charitable instincts. Yuri had to force back certain memories about the two of them, about Flynn’s hands on his hips and his lips against his cheek, and his pretty long lashes and how warm he had been. He didn’t even want to start thinking about all of the possible trouble living together could cause them. Upset, Yuri just lazily browsed the net, eventually ending up checking his mailbox. He idly erased all the spam and then abruptly stopped. His eyes widened as he stared at the screen in bewilderment.

Duke Pantarei had sent him an email. The subject line declaimed “To Mr. Yuri Lowell”.

Yuri froze, trying to make sense out of that.

Fucking Duke Pantarei in person had sent him a fucking email from his fucking pantarei.duke@entelexeia.press.tl email address. The fucking atomic mana bomb of information just lay there in his mailbox, silently waiting for Yuri’s index finger to open it and read about how Flynn would just look at him and laugh his _fucking_ ass off.

Yuri slowly selected it, a mixture of excitement and confusion turning his stomach into a black twisting abyss. The text of the email started with a polite and composed _Good evening._ Yuri managed toread just the first sentence before feeling like jumping up from his bed, finding a table and flipping it.

“Thank you for applying to the illustration contest. I’m really looking forward to be working with you.”

Flynn was a damn hurricane, in every single possible way. _Fuck._

_  
_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domesticity, hot chocolate and a stolen pencil. A crossoverish appearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a thousand thanks to ziamshrine and suspiciouspopsicle for their support and their help ♥  
> Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and are not mine!

_Mom._  Those three letters flashed on the display as the mobile started buzzing, their shape and color going on and off like the alarming, ticking timer of a bomb about to explode.

When Flynn managed to pick up the phone, after a long while of his banal ringtone going off, he had just placed himself in the driver’s seat of his car. He was in the university parking lot, ready to go home after a long, tiring day he had spent continuously moving from one class course to another, eventually settling in the library for his part-time job, helping his colleagues and studying until the sun had set. He deeply sighed, leaning against the headrest, his hand a bit shaky as he drew the mobile near to his ear.

« Hi, mom,» he said, doing his best at sounding enthusiastic. « I’ve been waiting for your call.» Wow. Lame.  _Given the_   _start, this won’t be the best of your performances._

« Good evening, dear,» his mom’s voice sounded hearty and relaxed, as if nothing in the world could ever hurt her again. « Is everything fine?»

Flynn swallowed. Here it came: the routine questioning – the main reason that made him wait for his mother’s weekly call with a persistent sense of dread.

« I’m fine. I was about to head home,» he said, nervously fumbling with his “F” shaped keychain. « What about you and Carl?»

« Oh, we’re fine, darling, thank you. How are your exams going?»

« Pretty well. I still have three or four left.» She always asked that, and as years had passed, Flynn had slowly decreased their number, one by one. But apparently graduating in time wasn’t exactly his mom’s main and only interest.

« Oh, that’s fine. Be sure to make up for those few mediocre grades, mh?» She wanted high quality.

Flynn started tapping his feet against his car’s carpet, nipping slightly at the inside of his cheek.

« Sure, don’t worry.»

« Has Doctor Dinoia already told you if he intends to give you the honors on your final graduation score?»

She was obviously taking a maximum score for granted. _High quality and as fast as possible._

« Not yet. My thesis is still a draft.»

« Oh, Flynn, don’t worry. I know you can,» she said, absentmindedly. That was probably meant as praise, but never actually managed to make Flynn feel better or at ease at all. Especially in the last few years, when he had tried to focus more on his book – leading to those 27/30 grades that his mother defined  _mediocre_. Flynn tried to let it slide; he knew his mother had never actually wanted to upset him. She just constantly reminded him that she truly believed in his success, and just waited for it like something to be expected.

« I hope so,» he just said.

« Oh, I have no doubts! You’ll be the best, as always. You’re your father’s son after all.»

Flynn didn’t reply. Sometimes it was difficult to discern if his mother’s love was genuine or if she just looked at him with a mere sense of nostalgia, searching for a faded echo of her late husband. In the past, she had been calling him  _little Finn_ until he had been naïve and blunt enough to tell her his real name was slightly different. Flynn looked at his own eyes, their cerulean reflected in the driving mirror. Sometimes he just hated that color, their shape, the way their corners curved slightly downward. He had seen so many photos of his dad, they had crowded every empty shelf in their old house in the suburbs. The same droopy blue eyes. Neatly combed blonde hair, thick black glasses on an aquiline nose, the fascinating smile of a successful man and a caring father who had not lived enough for his son to even remember his voice. Finath Scifo had been everywhere,  providing Flynn with an idealized model of what a great man he could become. Sometimes it was just so  _hard_. At least his mother had found a new way to be happy, after almost fifteen years of mourning.

« How is dear Sodia? Have you two managed to reconcile?»

Flynn bit his lower lip, a vague feeling of sickness scratching from the bottom of his stomach.  

« Not yet.»  _That will never happen, don’t be ridiculous. «_ I was thinking about calling her, one of these days.»  _Liar. You don’t even like girls. You discovered it thanks to_ her _._

« I think you should. I’m sure she’ll forgive you,» she said, her tone reassuring. « You were such a cute couple. I even hoped you could marry her, eventually.»

Flynn felt like bursting into laughter, but promptly suppressed it. A sticky uneasiness slowly replaced the spring of ironic amusement, filling in his throat as he tried to speak.  

« I’m still too young for that, » he said, faking a chuckle. « I’ll let you know how it goes.» _  
_ One lie after another, his chest became heavy. _You’ll end up choking, you know?_ He had broken up with Sodia because being with her continuously reminded him about every single one of his flaws – one for all, on her opinion, not being able to enjoy the marvels of the female body. He just hoped he could manage to never see her again in his whole life. He had never told his mother.  

« All right, Finny. What about your friends? Everything’s all right?»

_What friends, exactly? You have none._

« Yeah,» Flynn said, his voice thick. «We hang out regularly. College life is fun.»

« I’m so glad. You eat regularly?»

« Yeah. I’ve become quite good at cooking.»  _Yeah, you’re also extremely good at dialing the number of Take-Away Pizza_. He thought of the roasted chicken he had bought from the rotisserie near to his college and its frozen remnants still waiting for him in the refrigerator, back at home.

They kept chatting about trivial topics. Flynn lazily answered, giving her all the answers she wanted to hear.  _You could tell her about how your book is going, and brag about the great praise it has already earned you. Oh, wait, she doesn’t even know about it, right._ He couldn’t wait for the pantomime to just stop once and for all, so that he could drive home and do his best not to feel guilty.

« Oh my, I almost forgot. Do you happen to know how dear Estellise is doing? Her father is quite worried.»

Flynn stayed silent for a second, unsure on how to respond. The last time he had talked to his half-sister, she had been a bit dismissive and nervous. Since she had left to attend a medicine internship at Aspio’s Academy, she had been quite busy. Something was definitely going on with Estelle, and Flynn suspected it might involve her friend Rita. It looked like the grumpy little woman had accepted playing host to her in Aspio, at least for the time being. That had quite piqued Estelle’s father’s sensibility, who had apparently wanted her to lodge in a fine rented small  apartment. Flynn didn’t want to bother her or act invasive – or even worse, tell their parents about it if she hadn’t felt like doing it herself. If Estelle ever needed his help, she knew well she could count on him.

« She’s doing fine. She’s just busy with the course.»

« Oh, I figured,» his mom commented, and her tone relaxed. « If you happen to hear from her, please tell us! And ask her if she has, by any chance, gotten in touch with the Ioder boy, okay?»

Flynn’s mouth twitched in a slight, irritated grimace. His mother wasn’t doing that with the earnest  intention of being mean, she was just like that: she needed to have everything under control, and he constantly, meekly did his best to let her think that. But he really couldn’t get over how she was slowly drawing her new husband to be as monitoring as her. They should have just let Estelle do whatever she wanted, and giving her phone number to strangers of  _their_ liking was one of the least annoying things they had done. Flynn felt anger slowly pooling in the pit of his stomach.

« I’ll ask her, sure,» he just said, coldly. He fought to keep his tone neutral as he pronounced his last lines, until his mother started to hint at them ending the conversation.

As soon as his mom hung up, Flynn remembered how to breathe, letting out a deep sigh. He threw his mobile on the passenger seat, slumping against the steering wheel for a brief moment before he could find enough drive to switch the engine on.

_This new rerun of the show has ended. Congratulations, you once more successfully managed to make everything look perfect._

—

As he took off his coat and scarf, Flynn finally managed to sigh and slowly relax.

« I’m home,» he announced.

The familiar sound of claws skipping on the parquet announced the enthusiastic entrance of a welcoming big husky – he rushed into the living room and had to balance himself steady not to topple onto his side. Barking a greeting, he wagged his tail and lowered his forelegs, expectant. Flynn chuckled and knelt next to him, rubbing the dog’s tummy as soon as he rolled on his back.

« Flynn?» a deep, quite piqued voice came from the kitchen’s direction «You said you had food ready in the fridge, right?»

« Yeah?»

Flynn heard the sound of hurried footsteps until Yuri appeared in the living room, his face frowning in an exasperated, accusing expression. He had some paint stains all over his worn out, black sweater and was holding a plastic food container in one hand. Flynn immediately recognized it: he had stored some remaining pasta he had cooked the day before in there, placing it into the fridge so that he could eat it later. Yuri motioned towards it with a questioning gesture.                  

« I dearly hope this crap isn’t really what you’ve been eating since you’ve been living on your own.» His glare was accusing, as if Flynn had done something unforgivable  _and unbelievable_. Flynn blinked.

« Why? I think it’s okay.»

Yuri widened his eyes in disbelief.

« You really,  _honestly_ ate this kind of thing when I was not here saving your ass from food-poisoning?»

Flynn stared at the offending pasta. It didn’t look  _so bad_. He had cooked it to eat it himself because Yuri was usually out for his part-time job at lunch time.

« That wouldn’t poison me,» he said. Yuri rolled his eyes and proceeded to abruptly turn the plastic bowl upside down. Flynn had expected the food to fall and splatter all over the floor but as he pointlessly reached out to stop Yuri, he found himself grasping at thin air. The pasta hadn’t even bothered submitting to gravity’s force and remained obstinately attached to the bottom of the container.  

A cocky smirk on his lips, Yuri just looked at him, waiting for him to admit defeat. Flynn felt his ears get hot as he grumpily mumbled:

« It’s just…cold. You have to heat it up a bit.»

Yuri briefly laughed at that. He knew he had won.                      

« Please. I’m throwing this fucking shit into the dumpster. And I’m gonna do the same to that disgusting chicken corpse you’ve been taking care of in the fridge.» He rushed into the kitchen, still muttering. « You’ve got such a nice range and you dirty it with such junk!»

Listening to the sound of Yuri washing his hands and getting ready to prepare them some dinner, Flynn deeply sighed – the stress and tension from the tiring day slowly flowing off him. He walked toward his room to change into something more comfortable, Repede following, probably hoping for some more attention. From the kitchen, he could soon hear the rhythmic, quick  _tat tac_  of eggs being beaten. Discovering Yuri was so far the best cook he had ever known was a little detail that only added to Flynn’s pleasure at having him settled in his apartment. And it wasn’t just because he had  _won_ their bet.

They had been living together for almost a month now.

Yuri had been incredibly persistent in delaying the moving procedures. So persistent that for a whole week Flynn had been continuously receiving big parcels containing Yuri’s painting tools, without the artist actually being there to unpack and arrange them. Winning the job for  _The Entelexeia Press_  had earned Yuri all new equipment – a free subscription to the best supply of canvases and colors, a whole set of new brushes, at least a dozen sketchbooks and easels in every imaginable size, and a huge, professional graphic tablet with a new generation laptop to work with. It was everything an artist could ever desire, but Yuri had seemed in need of some time to cope with his “defeat” before giving in and actually  _accepting_  Flynn’s support. On the day he had finally decided to surrender, he had shoved a roll of gald in Flynn’s hands, looking at him like everything had been his very own fault.

« To pay half of the damn bills. I’m not going to be your kept loafer.»

He had examined the apartment with his arms crossed, his eyes wandering around while he had helped Flynn take all of his baggage inside.  

« Seems I’ll have to cohabitate with a neat freak. Poor thing,» he had commented, his voice amused.

« Who are you calling a neat freak?»

« What the heck do you need all of this space for? Do you throw rave parties every weekend in here or what?»

« Is it something you normally enjoy doing? Acting contrary just for the sake of it?»

« I’m just making a statement. There’s no reason for this huge-ass place.»

Repede, on the other hand, had been overly enthusiastic about the house – he had run across the whole apartment like a mad spinning top, playfully barking until he had finally chosen the perfect corner to settle in, in Yuri’s room.

Despite Yuri growing irritated at how expansive, in his opinion, the apartment looked, it had actually tuned out looking too  _small_  to properly contain  _him_. Once they had assembled what would have become his painting station, reorganizing a room Flynn had been using as a stock room for food and cleaning tools, Yuri had started scattering his things all around the house – and all of Flynn’s efforts to keep the apartment neat and clean had been annihilated because apparently Yuri’s creativity  _needed_  that sort of _orderly chaos_. They had argued about it more than once, Yuri lamenting that  _That’s how I work! You wanted this! You’ve made your own bed, now you must lie on it!_  That had been a great challenge for his nerves, but in the end, Flynn had just forced himself to live with it.

However, in the past few weeks Yuri’s mood had fortunately improved. As he had grown satisfied and enthusiastic about his job and the illustration he had begun working on, he had slowly started to be less tense and smile a bit more often. An improvement that Flynn just had no intention of complaining about. As long as he managed to keep his room unharmed by Yuri’s questionable touch.

That night, they ate together, Repede curled under the table to keep them company; it had become almost an habit, as dinner was the only moment they managed to share, fighting their way through  their daily routines. Flynn had resumed attending courses, and that usually made him go out early in the morning and come back home late in the evening. Yuri worked hard enough on both his illustrations and part-time job – at least he had resigned from  _one_ of them – and even though he used to spend a great part of his days in the house, he rarely slumped in laziness.

Once they had tidied up the kitchen and Yuri had left  _the master of the house_  to take care of the plates, Flynn took his time to put some milk on the stove, determined to show Yuri he could contribute to their night with at least a well-made hot chocolate. It didn’t take too long for him to become aware of Yuri’s presence at his side – slowly turning to face him, a polite, silent question on his face, he discovered the other man wasn’t really there to argue about his way of making the milk boil. His friend shrugged as he pulled out a hand, holding some papers.

« I found these. Are they of any importance to you?»

Giving a peek to what Yuri was handing him, Flynn’s eyes immediately widened in panic. He snatched the sheets of paper out of his hands with such haste that he almost feared tearing them. Yuri looked at him with a confused expression, warily raising his hands, taking up a defensive attitude.

« Woah, okay! I won’t ever touch your super-secret academic shit again!»

« It—It’s nothing university related.»

« Oh. My bad, it looked like some kind of novel or dunno-what.»

Flynn got pale. Had he read it?  _He genuinely hoped not._  Yet, a strange urge made him fidget over trying to suffocate the matter. He didn’t know how he managed to slowly, awkwardly nod.

Yuri studied him for a long moment, his brows furrowed in confusion – but it took him so damn little time to read him and figure it out. Somehow Yuri had that talent, he could look through him and unmask every single one of his attempts to be mysterious. Flynn would have  _loved_  to be as much as intuitive.

« Oh,» Yuri murmured, teasing. « Soooo…that’s what you’re doing all of those hours, sitting at your laptop until it’s late at night, uh?»

« I’m…experimenting,» that was the best way Flynn found not to admit he was  _trying_ with all he got, and  _failing_  miserably. Yuri couldn’t really understand the subtext, so he just suppressed a small laugh as he placed a hand on his hip and asked:

« Can I read it?»

Flynn’s mouth twisted in alarm.

« I thought you didn’t like reading.»

Yuri rolled his eyes, switching his weight from one foot to another.

« It’s yours, so I’ll make an exception. Do you have a printed copy?»

« Err….no.» Looking at the sheets in his hands, Flynn hurriedly added: « These were just a few pages of – a draft. I needed to make some edits. I read them before going to sleep. Yes.»

The hasty answer made Yuri arch an eyebrow.

« Ookay…?» He said, skeptical. « Then send me the file?»

« I—» Flynn hesitated. «—no, I can’t.»

« Why?»

« It still needs proofreading. Massive editing and revisions.»

« Who cares? You see my preparatory sketches all the time.»

« Yeah, I know…but,» Flynn paused; Yuri looked at him, inquiring.

« What are you ashamed of? Is it a romance with lots of smut scenes or something?»

Flynn’s face reddened.

« No!»

« Then what?»

« Nothing. Let me finish the chapter I’m writing and I’ll send it.» His last attempt to procrastinate the matter managed to kick in, at least.

« As you wish,» Yuri said, looking at him as if he had lost interest. Flynn followed him with his eyes, while he moved toward the living room. He would forget about it, eventually. Finishing a chapter could take a lot of time, especially with Flynn’s motivation nearly reduced to nonexistence. He just had to hope Yuri wouldn’t ask again.

Suddenly aware that he had left the milk to boil, he fortunately managed to save it before it would end up burnt.  

Ten minutes later, two cups of dense hot chocolate in hand, Flynn went into the living room to find Yuri nestled into a blanket, sitting on the couch with a big sketchbook in hand. He looked focused and seemed not to notice when Flynn approached him.

« Here,» he offered and felt quite satisfied when Yuri accepted the cup without the slightest hesitation.

« Thanks.» He sipped it, slowly nipping the inside of his lips to savor it. Sitting next to him on the couch, Flynn patiently waited until his friend nodded in appreciation, placing the mug on the small short-legged table at his feet. With his pride partially recovered from the pasta incident, Flynn watched Yuri as he resumed sketching in his book, his left hand tracing raw and confident lines all over the white paper. The way his fingers and wrist moved while holding a pencil was fascinating – he was sinuous, almost sensual, his gestures flowing and easy in a way that somehow reminded Flynn of Yuri dancing. He couldn’t really get tired of looking at it, at the way his bones and muscles shifted, the asymmetrical lines of his veins slightly swelling along the slender shape of his hands.  

« What are you working on?» he asked, leaning over to peek at his drawing.

« A princess,» Yuri said. « The writer asked for some sketches. The tale is  _The Child of the Full Moon._ »

« Oh.» Flynn hadn’t really ever read Pantarei’s works, so that piece of information wasn’t really of any significance to him. He made a quick mental note about making up for that, so that he could at least know about what Yuri was working on, and occasionally offer some advice on the interpretation. Slowly sipping at his chocolate – which had come out quite good, actually – he kept watching as Yuri brought his new character to life. He doodled a nice round face, outlined the fluent lines of sweetly braided long hair, then changed his mind and erased them, cutting them in a pretty and neat bob. When he started defining the girl’s features, Flynn’s interest sharpened. Yuri had an incredible skill in that kind of things – he managed to tell a story by just tracing some quick lines on a piece of paper. His characters had feelings, conveyed emotions in the bare shape of their bodies, in the wrinkles of their faces, in the light he gave to their eyes. Yuri was probably not even aware of it, or he would have stopped disregarding his skills, even though he had been chosen by  _The Entelexeia Press_  and had acted as a sore loser due to his bet with Flynn.His talent in drawing was something that made Flynn almost jealous – he wouldn’t ever be able to convey such feelings, such depth with the way he handled words. What would Yuri think if he ever happened to read his novel? The gap between their skills was straining.

Almost entranced by what he was doing, Yuri put his pencil down on the mound of the blanket engulfing his legs to use the rubber, and didn’t notice when it rolled down to the floor. The slight, admiring envy he had felt had put a certain stinging uneasiness on Flynn, so that when he stretched out to pick up the pencil for him, he placed his chocolate mug near to Yuri’s and didn’t move further. As soon as his friend noticed his main tool had gone missing, he raised his eyes toward Flynn, an interrogative, almost confused expression on his face. Flynn faced him with a smug, tight-lipped smile. He knew that what he was planning was extremely childish, but sometimes Yuri’s presence made being twenty-two and an adult a totally insignificant matter.

« What?» Yuri asked, probably sensing Flynn had some kind of nasty project in mind. He had become quite wary toward that kind of thing. He gestured toward the hostage in his friend’s hand « Give it back.»

Flynn clutched his fingers around the long body of the pencil, stretching his arm up.

« Make me.»  

Yuri huffed a small laugh and put his sketchbook away.

« How old are you, exactly? Five?»

« I’m the same age as you,» Flynn provoked, a slight smirk on his lips. « Maybe I’m just weak to your bad influence.» Yuri considered his words, then answered with a lopsided grin.

« What would your petty colleagues think if they ever saw you behave like an insufferable pest?»

Those words didn’t actually intend to sting, of course, as Yuri had thickened his tone with kind, harmless, even affectionate sarcasm. Yet, Flynn felt a bit uneasy anyway. The mere idea just bluntly frightened him. There was  _no way_  he would let anyone of his acquaintance see that side of him. He hadn’t even known he actually  _had one_ , before meeting Yuri again. He was the only person he felt comfortable acting that way with. The doubt about it being appropriate or not didn’t even bother him. It felt just natural.

« I’m lucky you’re not one of them,» he managed, forcing the discomfort away. Yuri narrowed his eyes, his mouth wrinkling into a knowing pout that made Flynn feel accepted. His tone was now filled with amusement.

« Smartass.»

Yuri surged over him, grabbing his wrist, the violent shuffle of their bodies making the couch skid  on the parquet, screeching. Flynn immediately reacted, his free hand digging into his shoulder to protect the small prize he held in the other, stretching his arm out of reach. Yuri ground his teeth in a challenging smirk, a cocky glimpse of white on his beautiful self-assured face. He was throwing himself at Flynn again, a small warning groan escaping his lips as he wrapped his arms around his waist and surged forward, head down, kicking the blanket out of his way. Flynn took the assault, suppressing a chuckle as Yuri took advantage of him being ticklish – he tried to shove his hands aside, backing down toward the armrest. They probably looked like two over-sized brats fighting over a candy stick. Yet, as long as it was just the two of them, he could easily overlook the matter. It made him quite happy, actually.

Losing his balance as his friend jumped on him once more, Flynn dropped against the couch’s armrest, Yuri following immediately on top of him with a suffocated grunt. They adjusted in the quite cramped space, both of them a bit too tall to lay and properly fit on the sofa. One of Yuri’s hands pressed in the middle of Flynn’s chest for support, his hair gathering on one shoulder. Immediately aware of Yuri’s body against his, Flynn swallowed. When his friend’s eyes looked up to meet his, fortunately, they were still shining with annoyed amusement.

Despite being on quite good terms lately, it had become overly rare for them to linger in displays of affection. They had been natural for Flynn during their reunion at Torim, but it had been probably due to their prolonged separation. Yuri hadn’t really ever been the effusive type, to begin with, but it looked like getting used to Flynn’s presence had made him even less prone to it.

More than that, sometimes Flynn could sense some sort of glass wall between them, a feeling of imposed coldness restraining him, keeping him away from a  _Beware! Danger!_  zone. They had completely avoided talking about what had happened after they had danced together, back at Torim Harbor. It had been a topic that Flynn had been cautious enough not to bring up, fearing that it might upset Yuri and undermine their relationship beyond repair. That didn’t mean he had forgotten about it, or about how he had felt. It awakened a slight sense of distressing emptiness, a vague uneasiness that drew him toward Yuri – it never failed to make him needy for physical contact, as if his friend’s body filling the gap between his arms might fill some kind of emotional vacuum as well. Those sensations had been promptly repressed before Flynn could make sense of them, keeping them locked within him in favor of domestic peace. And Yuri’s good mood and friendliness. Whenever he was good-humored, being with him was refreshing.

But there were moments such as that one, when ignoring how he felt just became frustrating or utterly impossible. Lodging the pencil behind his own earlobe, Flynn slowly laid both of his hands on the small of Yuri’s back, cautious. Trying to read his friend’s intentions in the gleaming light in his eyes, he didn’t move further. Understanding Yuri’s way of thinking became even harder than usual – and it was probably due to the fact Flynn could feel his weight all over his own body.

« We aren’t kids anymore, you know that?» Yuri mused, settling his chin on top of the palm of his hand, his elbow pinned against Flynn’s chest.

« Do you?» Flynn retorted, and he wasn’t sure his words and Yuri’s had the same implied meaning.

« You’re clearly, intentionally getting in the way of my artistic spree.»

« It doesn’t look like you’re totally against it,» Flynn murmured.

Yuri grinned. A lock of his dark hair slipped from the band tying it, and smoothly slid over his face. He didn’t bother pulling it back again as he leant out toward Flynn, his voice turning into a deep, challenging whisper.  

« Is that so? Are you sure?»

As they were now so close he could feel Yuri’s hair tickle his neck, Flynn tried to understand what exactly had made the situation escalate that quickly. He furiously fought to bear the whole thing, searching for a satisfying way to meet his friend’s provocation, but before he could even think about anything, Yuri was kissing him. It was just a chaste peck, a silent brush of his lips against Flynn’s. When they parted, only a brief moment after, Flynn’s mind had already gone totally blank.

He felt Yuri’s thumb sliding along his temple, brushing it just slightly. It made him shiver as it slowly glided toward his hairline, gently grazing his bangs away from his forehead. Before Flynn could become aware of his fingers moving cautiously toward his earlobe, Yuri lowered his head and kissed him again. Flynn’s attention entirely shifted, his eyelids flickering against his slightly steamed glasses’ lenses. His hands trembling against Yuri’s back, he compliantly started responding – Yuri made it slow and smooth, lingering against Flynn’s lips for a long, painful moment. When he finally pulled away enough for Flynn to focus on his face, his cheeks looked faintly hotter than before. He had a mischievous smirk that didn’t really match the vaguely dazed look in his eyes.

« Gotcha,» he said, in a low voice. He made the pencil dance between his fingers, a bit too dexterous not to be bragging, and gently tapped Flynn’s nose tip with the small rubber on top of it. Making it look like some sort of little revenge, he placed his wooden trophy behind his own earlobe, satisfied. Flynn silently followed his moves, entranced, not even trying to fight anymore. Faintly hoping that things could work out better this time, since Yuri had started it, he moved one of his hands toward his friend’s hair – acting as gentle and cautious as possible, he brushed away the locks that had fallen forward. Yuri got immediately still, and Flynn could sense it in the way his back muscles tensed under his palm. He waited, alarmed, until his friend met his eyes again, his face unreadable. Yuri didn’t move, his tongue briefly moistening his lower lip. Still a bit unsure about what exactly was happening, Flynn finally chose to dare – his knuckles lightly touching the other’s cheekbone, he attempted a calming rub against his back. Yuri narrowed his eyes like a cat ready to start purring, and almost looked like he could lean into the touch.

Unexpectedly, he did, and his lashes lowered on the glossy silver underneath. When Flynn cautiously leant over, Yuri’s lips adjusted against his with a slow flowing movement, their fit natural and reassuring. As he felt Yuri’s nose tip pressing against his glasses, Flynn let his hand slide to the curve of his neck, holding him near, slightly bending the angle of their kiss. Yuri let out a suffocated, husky, little sound and Flynn sensed it die in his throat – their lips briefly parted, moving in a coordinated little shift to have better access to each other. Flynn felt Yuri’s tongue melt against his the moment after, his taste familiar and bittersweet, sixty percent dark chocolate. He had never realized how much he had craved kissing him until that very moment – that awareness suddenly hit him, making him frown as a small moan vibrated on Yuri’s mouth. Need poured all over him, electrifying his whole body, making him hungry for contact. He tentatively moved his hand under Yuri’s sweater, running it up, his fingertips savoring the texture of his skin. He was warm to the touch, but as Yuri’s hand quivered against his side, sneaking under his shirt to his chest, Flynn shivered and suppressed a wail. His palm was cold – it gave him goose bumps as it glided to his chest, stretching below the neckline to reach the tensed muscles of his shoulders. Yuri breathed loudly, exhaling, his fingers lingering on the small hollow of Flynn’s stretched tendons. Their kiss turned out quite wet until Yuri gently bit his lower lip, and that gave Flynn the courage to try going a little further. His hand sliding down to the other’s hip, his fingers digging against the solid shape of his bones, Flynn pressed his lips against the corner of Yuri’s mouth. The other didn’t complain, his back stiffening as it arched slightly under Flynn’s touch.  

However, as soon as Flynn started placing small kisses along his jawline and down his neck, his thumb gently brushing the line of his throat, something in Yuri’s attitude changed. Abruptly pulling away, he shoved the other’s hands aside and deftly got up on his feet. Flynn would have truly liked to, but didn’t stop him.

« Seems like I’ll have to keep working somewhere else.» Gathering his sketch album and chocolate mug, Yuri whistled to obtain Repede’s attention « I’m taking the blanket.» he grabbed a corner, tugging it until Flynn let him take it. Repede was already at Yuri’s side, apparently a better, less-distracting companion.

« I didn’t mean to hinder you.» There was a slight trace of annoyance in Flynn’s words, but Yuri didn’t seem to notice.

« It’s okay. I just need a bit of time to brainstorm in peace.»

 _Well,_ you _turned the whole prank into an excuse to kiss me, jerk._

« Wait.»

« What?» Yuri turned toward him but never actually looked him in the eyes. He seemed distracted – his playfulness was gone.  _What exactly was that, again? Fooling around like at Torim? A sly joke to pay me back for something? You kiss me first and escape the moment after? Do you even make_ sense _?_  All of those retorts mixed in Flynn’s mind and slowly lost their very meaning.Whatever emotion, be it hope or disappointment, had made Flynn talk, disappeared with Yuri’s good mood.

« Uh,» Flynn paused, distracted. « Do you want me to turn on the heating?» Of all the trite things he could have said to try keeping the conversation alive, that was truly the most dismissive option.

« Yeah, please do,» Yuri said, and started moving toward his room. « ‘night.»

« Goodnight.»

And off he went, pretending nothing at all had happened – Flynn heard the sounds of his bare feet on the parquet and of the door closing. After that, there was silence.

Flynn slumped on the sofa and sighed, pressing a hand on his cheeks, rubbing his eyes under the glasses. They still had Yuri’s nose prints. He knew they really needed to talk about it – ignoring the matter like that wouldn’t have led them anywhere, if not an inch closer to complete detonation. At Torim, Yuri had made himself clear: he didn’t want anything stable or serious. Upsetting as it might sound, Flynn was not really the guy to kiss someone, especially a close friend he cared so much for as Yuri, just to have some fun – he had restrained from touching him to  _respect_  his damn will. But…then  _why_? Why initiate a make out session just to blow it up and act as if it had been Flynn’s fault? Was it a damn sly way to make fun of him? Of the fact that he was overpoweringly enticed by a childhood friend and he just sucked at hiding it?

He felt heavy. He liked Yuri. It was no use denying it – he had grown to be quite aware of that fact in the last month.

Despite what had just happened, or probably just because of it, the glass wall dividing them was still there, maybe even stronger than before – a strong barrage fighting the pressure of a deep lake. Yuri was on the other side and Flynn was honestly scared of trying to breach it, afraid that it could break them both. He felt like he could punch a wall until his knuckles would start bleeding.

———

_Fuck._

It had happened  _again_. Swearing in a low voice, Yuri threw the sketching album on his desk, irritated. And he had been starting to think that cohabitating with Flynn hadn’t been the worst of ideas! Yeah, sure thing! He had spent the past month strenuously trying to avoid unnecessary interactions – all for their own sake. He had always known, since their little dance on the beach at Torim, that things would naturally lead to this – it had struck him with immediate, instinctive certainty. It was true, he couldn’t really grow tired of his hands. He couldn’t stop thinking of the faint, little freckles that peppered his nose and cheeks as anything different than adorable. He felt extremely attracted to him, a drive that he could feel under his own skin and in his very being, and couldn’t even truly define as just strictly physical. The moment he would drop his guard with Flynn, they would just end up like that, melting into each other with no possibilities of turning back.

All for a stupid, childish prank over a damn pencil.  _Fuck!_ His skin still burned, aching for Flynn’s touch – his heart wouldn’t just keep damn quite. He strolled back and forth along his room, trying to calm down. Hoping swallowing could make his tongue get rid of Flynn’s taste.

Being with him distracted Yuri  _way too_  much. He hated losing himself, hated not being able to stop. He hated acting against his resolve, the way his behavior, being around Flynn, would just end up losing coherency. It was damn  _scary_. He feared that by letting those feelings govern him, everything would just turn out deep and complicated in an instant, strangling them both. He didn’t want to hamper their friendship because of _that_.

_We should work together. I love your style.  
I could be your motivation – help you out of your block._

Oh, no, not this shit again.

 _I love you, Yuri. Be with me forever._  
Do it for me.   
You love me, right? Why wouldn’t you ever say it?

Yuri still couldn’t believe he had become so damn  _weak._  He had let that mad freak get so close to him without even noticing. He had thought of him as someone worth his interest, someone who could understand him and easily prove being his equal. Judith had made no secret of her dislike for the guy – who she defined a complete  _creepy weirdo_. Yet Yuri had allowed the dude to get to know him better, and  _that_  had been such a stupid blunder. He had felt so desperate for attention and company and  _competition_ that he had kept ignoring it until it had been too late. He should have had a bit more awareness of his fucking scattered brain.

 _Have you already worked on that sketch I asked you? Why wouldn’t you listen to me?_  
You should give your attention to me!  
I love you! I love you! I belong to you!

Extremely pissed off, Yuri kicked Zagi’s ass out of his mind. Flynn  _was not_  like that, and the simple fact that his head would continuously tend to associate the two of them was upsetting enough to make him feel like headbutting something. But of course, Zagi related memories were hard to kill  just like Zagi himself, and came back to him in an instant.

_You are mine. I’d rather kill you than let you leave me!_

Irritation taking over, Yuri grabbed the nearest thing he could find and threw it hard across the room. It was fortunately nothing breakable – a still sealed big tube of oil color that hit the wall with a dull sound and just dropped on the wooden floor. Letting out a snort, Yuri kicked an abandoned boot and sat on his mattress, both hands sinking nervously in his hair, grabbing the slim locks of his bangs. He was not sure he actually wished Flynn to hear the sounds of his frustration, so he slowly tried to give a new, quieter pace to his breathing rhythm.

From his pillowed kennel in the corner, Repede raised his head and whined – he immediately joined Yuri at his signal, jumping on the bed to curl up next to him. As Yuri started to pet him, trying to calm down, a low roar announced the heating system had started working. Well, of course Flynn would have switched it on – he had apparently noticed Yuri eventually feeling the cold a bit more, now that it was almost November. He was always so  _damn_  caring in everything he did for him. Was it even possible for a man his age to be so dumb? He had those shoulders and was almost two meters tall, and still managed to be  _cute_? Fuck him.

…not in  _that_  sense,  _for_   _Undine’s sake_.

While he wondered about truly a big amount of upsetting, painful things he just ought to forget but couldn’t, his mobile started to go off. It was just a muffled sound, the melodious and low music that Judith had once set as her own personal ringtone, snatching Yuri’s mobile while he had been defenseless and deeply concentrated in having a post-lunch nap. Still swearing in a low voice, he jumped off the bed and wandered around his room searching for his telephone. He managed to find it, eventually, and indolently pick it up.

« Hello, Yuri honey,» Judith tweeted. « What can I do for you today?»

Collapsing on the bed again, Yuri leant his head against Repede’s back.

« You could start by not asking anything about Flynn.»

« Why? How is your life going, up there in the prince’s tower? Do you often let your hair down?»

« Judith.»

« I’m just kidding,» she purred. « I was just hoping for some interesting news.  Nice updates on how things are going.»

Yuri found himself almost grumbling:

« There are no nice updates, » he said, drily.

« You are playing with your hair, aren’t you?»

Yuri got immediately still, his arm stopping in midair with a thick lock of hair twined around three fingers.  _Fuck._  He pulled his hand free, suffocating a small, frustrated grunt.The moment of awkward silence gave Judith enough time to guess she had been perfectly right, of course.

« Oh,  _my_. So you  _are_  a damsel in distress, I suppose?»

« I am  _not_.»

Judy chuckled.

« All right, all right.»

Eager to change the subject, Yuri deeply sighed. He had to  _stop_  doing that – during their friendly banters on  _unwanted,_   _unneeded_  and  _unwelcome_  boyfriends Judy had caught him doing that more than one time. He had to stop or she wouldn’t let go of her conviction that Yuri “actually needed somebody to romantically sweet talk to”. Which was  absurd and totally nonsense, of course.

« How’re you doing there? Miss me?»

« Oh, I do. The house is too quiet for my liking.»

Yuri smiled. Judith always  _knew_  – she had always had a strange talent for sensing his distress and, surprisingly, soothing it. She had come to live with him after he had come out of the terrible, frightening mess Zagi had thrown him into. Living with Flynn was an entire different matter – he honestly missed not being sexually attracted to his own roommate. Being able to chat with her whenever he had needed company had been probably what had prevented things from getting worse. Maybe what he really needed was Judy’s help,  _once more_. He hated the idea of fucking things up with Flynn. He just hated it.

« I thought you would promptly take advantage of my absence,» he continued.

« Oh, that’s harsh, honey. I don’t exactly need your absence to do as I please. »

« I know, I know.» Yuri inhaled, his words coming out a bit less tense than a moment before. « How are things going with that Crow guy?»

« It’s Raven.» Judy chuckled. « What kind of information are you seeking, anyway?»

« I don’t know. Is he still hiding love messages in your locker like a middle school kid with his first crush?»

«No, but he bought me flowers two days ago.» She paused, humming, her tone pensive. « Your absence kind of impedes me, actually.»

« Oh, yeah?»

« I can’t use you as an excuse as not to make him come over. I keep finding less and less reasons not to let him in.» She sighed, an over dramatic sound of surprise. « Oh, my. Does this mean I probably like him?»

Yuri good-humoredly laughed, and the sudden burst of it made Repede scoff – he raised his head from where he had been resting on the mattress, breathing loudly with his tongue hanging out like a lopsided, overly cheerful open mouthed smile. Yuri managed to look at his reaction for a brief moment, and was then hit by the thick fur of his tail as the dog started wagging happily.

« You might be into older dudes, after all.» was Yuri’s comment, as soon as he managed to escape another soft, flapping slap from his dog’s tail.

« Perhaps,» Judy hesitated. « Oh, and a certain Luke Von Fabre has asked about you. I’ve got his mobile phone number. Do you know him, perhaps?» Judy added.

Yuri blinked, surprised.  _What?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the ridicolous delay in this update and the biggest thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments. I wasn't expecting so many <3 I will surely post the remaining already written chapters, and might get back to working on the last few ones in the near future. Once again, sincerely, thank you for reading :)
> 
> ( alicyana, ZiamZiam, Suspicious_Popsicle - you both told me you missed my Fluri stories, and that igneted the first spark of courage leading to this update ♥ Thank you so much for your help on both the story and my poorly-tended self esteem)
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and are not mine!

When Flynn finally found the courage to tell his mother about Yuri, it was almost the end of November. She reacted with enthusiasm, that kind of interest that Flynn feared and despised more than anything in the world. He had honestly wanted Yuri to meet his mother – he knew she had always been kind to him during their childhood, and had thought she would have liked to meet him again after ten long years. But things had become quite different from the situation they had been in at Torim. Flynn was putting him up for free – he liked Yuri in a way that wasn’t exactly just friendly – Yuri knew some things about him that his mother didn’t need to know, first of many, the fact that he had been losing his precious time in writing instead of studying. Things got even scarier when his mother insisted on inviting both of them to have lunch at her husband’s house. Flynn accepted to avoid his mother’s displeasure, hoping for Yuri’s polite refusal due to the fact he had his part-time job at _Leblanc’s Bistro_ almost every day. As soon as he told him, though, Yuri averted his gaze from the canvas he had been painting on in soft shades of red and bordeaux.

« Sure. They granted me a day off. I’m free on Sunday, if it’s okay for you.»

That was clearly _not okay_ , but there was no way for him to withdraw the matter without having to explain too much. He hadn’t expected his friend to accept, to begin with. He waited for Sunday with anxiety, the stinging sensation that a catastrophe was upon him constantly making him feel uncomfortable.

When the dreaded day came, the morning had greeted Zaphias with the first mild snowfall of the year.  Yuri came out of his room with his black jeans on, folding the sleeves of his dark shirt up to his elbows. He had tied his hair into a neat, tight and high ponytail, and had his golden bracelet around his wrist. The last time Flynn had seen him dress in such an elegant outfit had been for the prize-giving ceremony at _The Entelexeia Press_ headquarters. He waited for him in the hall, fiddling nervously with his car keys while he looked at his movements.

« Isn’t that a bit too thin for the weather?» he asked, dubious, watching him as he started pulling on a light-weight double breasted, black trench. Yuri accurately buttoned it and shrugged:

« I have nothing else. Dahngrest never gets this chilly,» he paused, flattening the lapel with his palms. « Why, do I look bad?» he looked at Flynn in search of acknowledgment. Flynn slightly blushed as he met his eyes – _You’re gorgeous_ – he had to hesitate and stammer not to let that comment leave his tongue. 

« N-no… you look good, definitely.»

Yuri averted his gaze, doing a great job at looking unconcerned as he started tying his belt loop:

 « Then it’s fine. I can endure a bit of snow,» he attempted a cocky smile, but it plainly died when he cleared his throat and moved in search of his mobile, his high, lace-up, studded boots clinking as he walked. _Yeah, sure._ As if he wasn’t the most cold-feeling person Flynn had ever known.

He nodded, nevertheless – he tried not to insist on the matter not to sound too pedantic, but it took him a brief glance at Yuri’s naked throat and nape to rethink his priorities.

« I’ll lend you a scarf,» he said, grabbing one from the clothes hanger near the entrance. « And take your hoodie. You can wear it under the trench if it gets too cold.»

Yuri frowned, the familiar pout bending his lips just slightly.

« Don’t be ridiculous,» he protested. « I told you I can -» his words got muffled by the scarfs’ wool that had been just wrapped around his neck. He looked at the culprit, outraged, but didn’t move to stop him - Flynn proceeded in knotting it, trying to be gentle, raising a satisfied smile as he finished and Yuri commented with a low and mocking _Thanks, nanny._ They finally managed to get out of the apartment a few moments later, even though Flynn had to go and retrieve Yuri’s black hoodie from wherever his owner had thrown it.

The house where his mother was living with her new husband was a big mansion built in the upper quarter of Zaphias, a few blocks away from the Imperial Palace. It had two floors and arched, long windows that opened along the white walls like blind, pale eyes with golden rims and eyelashes. The entrance had an elegant marble front with slender columns and a tessellated pavement, ushering guests and important visitors like a sophisticated and welcoming red carpet. It had a large private garden Carl Heurassein constantly kept neat and flowery, with the help of a qualified squad of gardeners. Flynn’s mother waited for them at the door, wrapped into an elegant blue dress, her brown hair wavy and perfect along her shoulders. She constantly wore her wedding ring, a thin white gold band with a small diamond sparkling on top of it.

« Oh, Yuri, dear! Long time no see! Here he comes, our rising star of contemporary art!»

Yuri smiled and offered his hand with a smooth motion. Flynn couldn’t help staring – whenever it came to acting well-mannered and proper, Yuri knew perfectly how to look outstandingly charming.

« It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Heurassein.»

« Oh, please, call me Norein,» she said, touching his cheek with her fingers « Spirits, you’ve gotten so tall!»

Flynn had hoped for his stepfather’s presence – it often acted as a good method to smother his mother’s loquacity. But as he sat next to Yuri in the wide living room, the lunch table set for three people only, all of his hopes immediately vanished. He felt his muscles tense and stretch at such a rising speed that he feared it could emerge and make his face and hands twitch.

A maid served the appetizer, and after that proceeded to place the main dish on the table. Roast beef with roasted potatoes, accompanied with a side dish made of salad and vegetables, bread, butter and a precious wine directly imported from Nor Harbor. Yuri tasted it and smiled, nodding in appreciation, looking at ease in that luxurious environment. For a long while during the first part of their lunch, Flynn couldn’t avert his attention from the way his friend would occasionally adjust the scarf around his neck, making his thick bracelet move around his wrist. It bothered Flynn to see him nervous and _cold_.

And then, the dreaded moment arrived. Gracefully slicing her roast beef, his mother started to chat.

« So, Yuri. Are you already engaged, perhaps?»

Yuri’s answer immediately came, covering the sound of moving cutlery.

« No. I’m concentrating on my job.»

« Oh, well, that’s a nice thing to do. It’s always wise to settle with a stable job before deciding upon getting married.»

Yuri raised a smile and nodded, stabbing some sliced carrots with his fork.

« That’s certainly true.» His tone sounded perfectly neutral.

« Oh, I hope Flynn’ll manage to find a proper job as well. I wanted him to study law, has he ever told you? Finath was a great lawyer himself.»

« I see.»

« Anyway, I know he’ll become a great researcher. He still has extremely good marks, I’m sure he’ll have no difficulties in winning the doctorate. I know his supervisor has already praised him for his results on his graduating thesis.»

Yuri’s eyes searched for Flynn, confused. He knew about Professors Dinoia’s latest comments. It looked like his supervisor couldn’t find a single sentence he didn’t have something to argue about. There wasn’t anything brilliant or praiseworthy in his research so far.

« He’s so hardworking! I always say his father would be proud of him. Have you already met his friends from college?»

Yuri blinked, searching for Flynn’s eyes again.

« No,» he said, wary. « We --», he hesitated and found a way to evade the question « Our working schedules rarely match, so we don’t really hang out together that much.» Yuri trusted him enough to give him cover without even knowing what was happening. Flynn felt so grateful that he lost sight of the main issue: his friend was slowly starting to _get it_.

« Oh, I see. That’s a pity.»

« Yeah, a real pity.»

« Where are you staying, anyway? Is it hard for the two of you to meet up?»

Flynn found himself almost choking on the water he had been drinking. Yuri got still and stayed silent for a brief moment.

« At a friend’s house,» he answered, clearing his throat, going back to cut careful slices of the meat on his plate. Flynn stared at his friend, desperately waiting for him to raise his gaze and meet his own, so that he could at least try to deliver a promise about explaining later.

« Mom, could you hand me the salt?» he attempted, nervously fixing the napkin he had spread over his legs. But all of his discomfort fell on deaf ears with his mother, who just kept pressing her curiosity and motherly pride on Yuri like nothing bad was happening.

« It’s over there, dear,» she simply gestured toward the silver saltshaker, and was immediately concentrating on Yuri again. «Flynn spends so much time on his studies that it makes me extremely happy he manages to find a bit of time to go out with friends, anyway. I wouldn’t like him to become a secluded student.»

 _Well, good to know. She would hate you if she knew you’re near to becoming a recluse. Not exactly the role-model she had been hoping for, apparently._ Yuri didn’t search for him this time, and just fixed his eyes on Norein, his expression dull as he said:

« Yeah, that would be a real shame.»

« Sometimes I even think he should find himself some kind of hobby. It’s quite sad not to have one, isn’t it? He’s extremely successful in everything he attempts, after all. He has won some swimming competitions, you know? Back in middle school. I remember he swam so fast all the other mothers would complement me as if I was the one in the water,» she giggled. « You think you could try and teach him how to draw, perhaps? He might become pretty good at it.»

 _Sure, some more activities to achieve excellency in._ Flynn already had his own hobbies. A hobby he hoped to turn into his job, but that she would never have accepted – time-consuming, not that profitable, way too dependent on people’s criticism and reactions.

« I might make an attempt,» Yuri said, his smile strained.

Norein bobbed her head, satisfied.

« Flynn, have you already introduced him to Estelle?» She gave Flynn the time to nod briefly and immediately added. « Oh, that’s wonderful!» She gestured toward Yuri again. « I think you’ll get along well with Ioder too, dear.»

Looking down toward his plate, Flynn winced. Had she just taken for granted that Estelle and Ioder would end up together? Yet, he was given no chance to properly elaborate his outrage – when he raised his gaze to comment, his mother had her eyes fixed on him again, expectant.

 « And has he already met Sodia?»

His focus shifted. Painfully.

« No, mom,» he answered, trying his best to sound distracted. He sensed his mother’s gaze on himself and felt like adding: «Not yet.»

« Oh, I’m sure she’ll like him.»

Flynn nodded again, suppressing the spring of bitter amusement pooling within him. _I highly doubt that._

As soon as Norein’s eyes went back to the plate, Flynn became immediately aware of another kind of stare weighing on him. Yuri was probably confused, very much so, but he _knew Flynn_. His stare was painful, it weighed on him and hurt so bad that for a brief moment Flynn thought he could have stopped breathing - his skin burned and ached as if he had offered himself bare naked to a flow of melted metal, directly from the furnace. It went through him, Yuri asked questions he didn’t know whether he would ever find the courage or the will to answer. He tried to distract himself by eating, but the roast beef on his tongue suddenly became tasteless. The sharp roughness of that stare remained on him long after Yuri had averted his look, it scratched and carved shabby lines within him like a blunt, rusty chisel against marble. It made his nerves fray so quickly that as soon as his mother’s words managed to reach his ears again, he barely listened.

« Finny, do you think we could probably show Yuri some of your high school pri---»

Abruptly, he lowered his fork against the edge of the plate. Metal hit porcelain and the way too loud sound of the clash made his mother jump.

« Enough of this, mom,» he blurted out, unable to control his volume. « We’re trying to eat.» 

His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks reddening under the thin layer of face powder. Flynn almost expected her to speak up and shout at him for such a lack of respect – but she didn’t know her son had unresolved issues, or repressed anger problems, neither could she imagine that such an outburst might have been caused by some kind of uneasiness nested within her perfect little boy’s chest. That he _hated_ how she continuously overestimated him, her words continuously implying nothing was wrong, setting his targets a little higher each time. She didn’t even know what truly discussing or arguing with her son would sound like. She immediately looked at Yuri, frowning into an apologetic look.

« Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to spoil your lunch. Please, eat! We’ll talk while we wait for the dessert, mh?»

Yuri’s voice was unstressed as he answered.

« I’m all right, ma’am.»

The topic switched from Flynn to Yuri smoothly, with Norein asking about how it was to live in Dahngrest, acting as her usual busybody self as she tried to inspect and reconstruct Yuri’s past by picking the tiny pieces of information he would occasionally spill like a dropper to answer her questions. Flynn remained as quiet as possible, concentrating on eating, speaking only when required. He couldn’t wait to take Yuri away from that damn place.

As soon as they finally managed to finish eating their lunch, Flynn convinced his mother to let them go by just hinting at his need to study for some upcoming exams. He had none that required such perseverance, and Yuri knew it – but, even if his face looked apathetic, he was probably feeling the same uneasiness as him. He let Norein hug him goodbye with a smile – then followed Flynn to the parking lot, nodding in silence when he suggested wearing the hoodie under the trench coat. Flynn helped him, awkwardly flattening the wrinkles of his clothes once Yuri had put them on again, checking that the scarf he had lent him was properly tied around his pale neck. The afternoon had brought a freezing chill on the city, one that made Yuri exhale loudly and breathe against his palms as soon as he successfully nested himself into the car’s compartment. Flynn switched on the heating as soon as he had the engine running.

It didn’t take long for them to get stuck in the traffic. Sundays filled the city’s streets like riverbeds during flood periods. Automobiles and vehicles of every dimension gathered into the main roads and slowed the circulation in the Upper Quarter at the point of almost blocking it completely. Getting to Flynn’s apartment could have taken hours. Groaning in displeasure, Yuri untied his ponytail and leant against the headrest. They stayed silent for a long while, as Flynn tried to follow his friend’s breathing rhythm under the constant buzzing of the heating. His nerves gave up after a good bunch of minutes of stasis.

« I’m sorry you had to see that,» he said, his voice suffocated. He didn’t know how Yuri managed to hear it.

« No problem,» his friend promptly answered, sinking his hands into his warm hoodie’s pockets.

« I didn’t tell her about us being roommates because I knew she would have tried to relocate you somewhere else. And I didn’t want her -» _to take you away from me_. He couldn’t finish the sentence.

« It’s perfectly okay, I’m telling you. I know it would have been hard to explain the way we ended up cohabiting. It could sound…weird to other people.» There was something strange in the tone of Yuri’s voice as he remarked on that, but Flynn didn’t find it in him to press on the matter now that he had been apparently forgiven so easily. _What a coward._

« Thank you,» he said, adjusting his glasses, feeling slightly better.

« So, have you already thought of a title?»

The question was so unexpected and out of context that Flynn got still and blinked blindly at the cars before him, a startled frown on his face. He needed a good bunch of seconds to extrapolate its meaning and implications. Almost panicking, air being sucked out of his lungs in one single, sharp breath, he turned to face Yuri and fought for his voice to come out steady.

« Have you read it? I asked you not to!»

« No, well, you actually told me to _wait_ for the last section to be finished. I had the sincere intention of doing that, but I found the manuscript in the living room two weeks ago and couldn’t help it. It laid there unguarded and it whispered _read me_ directly into my ear. And your printer makes a hell of a sound whenever you use it. I thought you had finally finished the infamous chapter.»

Flynn felt wrath immediately pumping within the pulse of his blood, hastening it, trying to take control of his hands and voice; but as he feverishly inspected Yuri’s face in search of some kind of mockery or amusement, for a deprecating comment ready to leave his lips, he found not even a small trace of it. His friend looked unconcerned, slumped against the car seat, one ankle casually placed against his knee. There was no _enthusiasm_ , as expected, but Yuri’s silence made him feel a tiny bit of relief. Flynn swallowed, his fingers nervously clenching around the wheel. He couldn’t really accuse him of being intrusive, not after what had happened during lunch time. He didn’t even feel like he should have.

« I---I see,» was the best he managed to say. He really didn’t know what to expect from Yuri now. He waited, impatient, not sure about how to feel about that sudden turn in their conversation.   

« Is the heroine shaped on a girl you’re seeing?»

Flynn grimaced. As if he could possibly be going out with a girl while he had to concentrate all of his efforts not to slam _Yuri_ against a wall and start kissing him senseless.

« No. She’s a bit of Estelle. And a bit of Sodia,» he added, his tone turning bitter.

« Who the heck is Sodia supposed to be, anyway?» Yuri’s tone was suddenly quite irritated.

« A girl I used to date.»

Yuri’s eyes shone for a moment, a quick flash of lightning that disappeared immediately.

« Woah, what a womanizer,» he said, haughtily. « So you like dating unjustifiably naughty Mary Sues?»

Flynn’s eyes widened in indignation.

« _Elizabeth_ is not like that!»

« I’ve never been the best woman psychologist, but that character looks like lame moronic junk to me anyway.» Yuri distended his index finger, as to start counting on something, « First, she purrs and acts like a damn bitch until Richard literally falls at her feet in a worshiping, desperately enamored mess.» He raised a second finger. « Second, she refuses him when he asks her out, literally telling him he’s not good enough, because, I really didn’t get that part, what, she thinks he’s after her looks only and doesn’t care about how she is inside? Well, what did she expect, exactly? She has introduced him to her booty and boobs and astonishing angel face only, and didn’t even give him the chance to talk about poetry, or emotional junk or whatever.» Another finger was raised. « Third. Every single male character seems romantically or sexually attracted to her at first sight. Wow. She probably wears some highly concentrated pheromone perfume, I thought. But no, nothing like that, she’s just perfect. And mean, ‘cause being a total cunt makes a woman strong, apparently. Cool-hearted, charming, steel-willed, beautiful, extraordinary, never failing, never faltering. And fourth, last but not least: the implied message you’re trying to convey is that _true love_ will make her understand her previous mistakes and lead her to absolute happiness and stability? If that’s how you want it to be, let me tell you – rationally speaking, there’s not even the slight chance for that woman to find happiness in a healthy relationship, because she doesn’t know how to think about others. Her world is made of _herself only_. Richard isn’t giving up on her because he wants to know her better and show her he loves her…» he made the quote, unquote gesture with his hands. «… “Intellectual side” just as much as he loves her legs and the idea of boning her against a wall or something. Wow. I can get that Sodia girl looking like some kind of unbearable man-eater or something to you, but this is how you depict your sister?»

« No.» That single word came out of Flynn’s dry mouth like a suffocated, death rattle. Yuri nodded.

« So, I suppose I’ve made my point.» Well, at least he was talking with honesty.

« What do you think of the rest?» Flynn attempted, trying not to sound wounded by the harshness of his comment. He hadn’t been expecting anything particularly positive to begin with.

Yuri shrugged:

« All the other characters didn’t bother me as much as Elizabeth,» he paused, rhythmically tapping his fingers against his leg. « Has somebody else read it?»

« A professor from high school. I keep sending him the new parts from time to time and he gives me feedback.»

« Did he like it?»

« He says it lacks something. »

« I know what it lacks. It lacks _you._ »

Flynn blinked.

« What?»

« It's dull, it looks like you put no emotion in writing it. There's not even a small hint of Flynn Scifo in there.»

Those words opened a small void in Flynn’s chest. He had put himself and his time in writing those characters and plot. He had lost sleep over it, feeling quite excited as he had watched the pile of printed paper grow little by little. And Yuri had perceived not even a single bit of all that.

« That's who I am,» he said, plain, defeated.

« You're not a boring moron, you dumbass.»

« Maybe that's just it. I'm not an interesting person.»

« Bullshit. Quit this fucking _I'm Mr Cellophane_ attitude.»

« You are the very first to continuously reject me.» It came out heavier than expected, and Flynn _knew_ he had thickened it with untold meanings, things that really weren’t related to his book or his writing style at all. Yuri’s eyes narrowed at that.

« I am _not_.»

Silence fell on them for a while. The traffic jam seemed to loosen up a bit and Flynn had to keep his attention focused on it, regularly working on the pedals to keep the car in motion. Let in the clutch, disengage it, accelerate just slightly, let the clutch in again to stop. He used the repeating procedure to distract himself, to keep his mind busy.

« I suppose you haven’t ever told your mother about your novel,» Yuri conjectured, and had his silent response when Flynn didn’t even _bother_ to confirm that. « Why not?»

« I’m not sure she would approve.»

« About the theme of the novel? Or about you writing?»

« Probably both.»

Yuri pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

« Why do you care so much about that? You do it because you love it, not to receive somebody else’s approval.»

« People’s approval is important for writers,» Flynn argued, trying to sound composed.

« Well, sure, of course. But that doesn’t mean you should write just for the sake of being praised. Doesn’t it become stressful?» Yuri’s tone was honest. He didn’t want to hurt him – he was just trying to help. Flynn could feel it, but something in what he was saying just wouldn’t stop bothering him.

« Does that book look like something someone like me would write?» he asked.

« Uh?» Yuri blinked, perplexed. « What, is there a writer chart like horoscopes or something where you can pick a novel by just looking at the writer’s face and guess the genre he writes? Judge a book by its author’s bowtie or smile instead of its cover?»

« No, I mean…» Flynn sighed, moving the car a little further along the road. « Does it make me look ridiculous?»

« Do my paintings make me look pathetic?» Yuri asked, arching his eyebrows. « Probably. I’m one hundred percent sure there’s somebody who honestly thinks I’m an idiot cause I draw pretty fairy tales and humanized stars and natural spirits. So what? Do you think I care?»

Flynn didn’t respond, swallowing.

Yuri frowned. He stared at him for a long moment, and Flynn could sense some kind of tension in that look, the shine in his eyes clearing from the fog of confusion as he slowly started to understand. When he finally spoke, his face was dead serious. He finally _had him_.

« You’re afraid of what other people think of you.»

« That’s not it.»

« Oh, _yes, it is._ You’re damn scared of strangers’ judgment.» His eyes burned in melted silver. « You’re shaping yourself on what _you think_ other people would want to see in you. And you’re projecting it into your book, as well. You’re a damn hypocrite, aren’t you? That’s why your mother doesn’t even actually know who you _truly_ are.»

Those words struck Flynn to the core. Nobody had ever told him something that crude. He fumbled with words to find a way to respond, and the car’s engine abruptly switched off under his feet. He murmured a small curse as he hastily switched it on again.

« I don’t care about strangers. I must live up to my parents’ expectations,» he finally rebutted, avoiding Yuri’s eyes not to show him how frustrated and perturbed the exchange was making him feel. Yuri’s voice turned from accusing to unbelieving.

« What the fuck? And that means being a complete fake douchebag?»

« It means adjusting to society. Doing what’s right.»

« That means selling yourself cheap, dude. You think that if you do something wrong your mom would come seek you out and spank your pretty ass like when you were four years old?»

« No. It’s just…I just can’t disappoint her.»

« So what? You just put on the mask of the perfect-son-with-straight-A’s-and-a-girlfriend who never takes up risks and everything comes out square? What about what’s under the fucking mask? Are you waiting for the worms to chew it off of you?»

That came out pretty gloomy but it hit Flynn hard in the stomach. _Living your life of lies until you’re dead and buried and nobody will ever know how you truly felt inside._ _How does it sound, uh?_

« It’s just not the right time. I’ll tell her someday.»

« When? How do you know it’s not too late? How do you know you’ll ever feel like telling her?»

Flynn paused. He imagined the scene like the crucial moment of a theatre drama, his mother sitting at the table as he slowly let out the truth. _I’m not comfortable with acting as dad’s younger double. Studying so hard is suffocating me. I don’t want to win the doctorate. I suck at cooking, I’m really,_ really _bad at it. I won’t meet Sodia ever again, I have no intention of marrying or giving you grandchildren. I like my best friend._ He could picture Norein’s look, the way it would slowly change into horror, he could follow the stream of thoughts that would have lead her to comment on the less important matter; _Oh, dear, you’re not a faggot. That must be just a phase, Finny._

« I don’t know,» he murmured, finally.

Yuri looked at him for a moment, his lips parted.

« Where have you hidden the witty bastard that managed to lure me into his house with a damn clever sly game? Was it yet another mask of yours or what?» Yuri’s voice sounded extremely dejected now. It clutched around Flynn’s chest so tightly that it almost made him choke.

« I’ve never been fake with you,» he hurriedly explained.

« Uh-uh?»

« I… I can’t find it in me to lie to you. I know you wouldn’t judge me.»

« Yeah, sure. Well, let me tell you this, I’m _definitely_ judging you now. You’re a fucking idiot.» Yuri’s harsh, determined tone was back, at least.

« I know.»

« Then just stop being one and do what the heck _you_ think is right!»

«… I can’t,» Flynn groaned between his teeth. That was starting to strain him to his limit. Yuri didn’t understand. He just _couldn’t._ He had been a naïve idiot to think he could have at least tried. His friend’s last comment, however, bit his flesh in a totally unexpected manner.

« Then you’re done for, Flynn. If you’re not living as yourself, your life is worthless.» Yuri’s voice cut him like the sharp edge of a whip, the violent slap of dense water meeting his head after a messed up dive from a three meters springboard.

« What is that supposed to mean?» he asked.

« To put it simply? You’re wasting your life.»

Flynn inhaled. He fought to emerge from the bottom of the pool, his limbs and back still aching and heavy after the bad crash through the water’s surface. He knew this would have hurt even worse as soon as he would have filled his lungs with air again. Losing his composure, he pressed hard against the accelerator pedal to move in the cars’ flow and spoke up.

« You don’t understand. How could you? You don’t even _have_ _parents_ to show your gratitude to.»

As soon as those words came out, Flynn immediately regretted them. He looked up to meet Yuri’s eyes, a solid sense of guilt weighing on him. His friend’s look was steady, his expression deadpan and ice-cold.

« ....do as you like, dickhead,» Yuri concluded, moving his gaze away. «I don't care about _you_ or your fucking poor imitation of a novel anymore.» His tone became deep and  menacing as he added:

« Stop the car.»

Flynn plunged again to the pool’s bottom, hitting it with a dull sound. His fingers trembled against the wheel – his voice came out as a pathetic wail.

« Yuri, I didn’t mean -»

« Stop the fucking car, Flynn.» Yuri cut him off immediately, speaking up, and the sound of his voice filled Flynn’s ears and head with the certainty that if he didn’t obey, Yuri would leave him for good. He stopped the car near to the sidewalk, and watched Yuri as he hastily opened the door, got out of the car and slammed it closed again. The sound of the door shutting echoed in the compartment and died down into a gloomy silence. Yuri closed his hoodie’s zipper under his trench, which he didn’t bother buttoning – he raised the hood over his head and started walking away with his hands sunk deep into his pockets. Flynn’s gaze followed him until he disappeared behind a corner.

Slumping against the driver seat, Flynn slapped his own cheeks with his palms, sighing deeply.  Grinding his teeth, he nearly lost it. He hit the wheel hard with his fist, making the car shake as the horn loudly went off. That caused the entire silent car jam to start hooting like a chain reaction, filling the street with deafening noise.

The controlled landslide within Flynn started to crumble away, slowly sliding under his fingers, the roar of the unstable soil growing little by little with the mounting sound of rocks rolling along the steep mountainside. When he finally made it to his apartment, not even knowing how he had managed to get his nerves to drive in the streets for so long, he rushed to his own room and immediately spotted the pile of paper gathered on his desk. He grabbed it, his fingers and knuckles whitening against the sheets as they crumpled them. _If you didn’t want him to read it you could have at least hidden it better. Or did you just hope he would find it on his own? So that he could give you his damn negative feedback without you looking too pathetic while you asked him to read the shit you write. So that you could blame him for being nosy, and feel more comfortable with your failure yourself. So that you could call his dead mother upon him. Great job at being a complete jerk, Flynn Scifo._ Repede wailed from somewhere in the house; the sound of paper tearing resounded in Flynn’s head like explosions. He angrily tore the sheets in groups, letting the uneven scraps scatter all over the desk and floor. As the rainfall of paper stopped, Flynn dropped onto his chair, erratically breathing as he watched the remnants of months of work and dedication cover the parquet like some kind of modernist artistic masterpiece. _Yeah, that’s how you make that paper worthy of being looked at._ His rage slowly dying down, the landslide adjusting under his palms as he forced his will to silence and stop it, Flynn filled his mind with Yuri. His dropping anger became self-pity, and abruptly turned into self-hate as soon as he realized how cruel he had been.

Yuri’s father had abandoned his mother while she had been pregnant with their child. She had died when Yuri had been ten, from an overdose of sleeping pills. A sad accident, people in the Lower Quarter used to say. Yuri had never met his father. Flynn remembered how he had always made no big of a deal of it, silently listening to him while he proudly reported all the great stories his mother had told him about Finath Scifo. Flynn remembered Yuri’s mother as a slender, pale woman, her fingers always cold as she brushed his cheek and murmured she was happy _his_ little boy had such a good friend at his side. She had always been sickly, weak in her wrists, underweight - a ghost that rarely hovered around them, her long black hair hanging along the smooth curve of her shoulders whenever Flynn would come play at the Lowells’ house. He remembered her eyes in particular – perfectly almond shaped and beautiful, dark grey that melted into pitch black, so much like Yuri’s –the only stain ruining them those deep shadows rounding them, the never fading marks of sleep deprivation. He had gone to meet Yuri after his mother’s funeral – he had awkwardly hugged him, trying to be steady as his friend’s weight leant against him. He had expected him to cry on his shoulder, but Yuri hadn’t let him see more than glossy, slightly bloodshot eyes.

He knew he had to apologize. He just had to find the right words to do it, to let Yuri know he truly meant it. That he appreciated his efforts to reason with him, that he had been completely honest and blunt at insulting him. His words still burned and hurt so much that he could barely stand it, but it felt somehow refreshing. Nobody had ever slammed reality into his face with such earnestness. Flynn sniffed, slightly pinching the bridge of his nose. Yuri _had_ to come back. He tried to convince himself of that. Grabbing a pen he had abandoned on his desk, he absentmindedly started to scribble on one of the remaining paper sheets.

 _I’m sorry._ He looked at the black lines of ink for a moment, considering, and put a pair of brackets at the beginning and end. He fiddled with the pen in his fingers. _I always thought that one day I would find you again,_ he added, his handwriting getting a bit messy as he tried to keep up with the flow of his thoughts. _I’ve never really accepted losing you._

Three lines, black on white. He tentatively added a fourth. _It has been so very hard without you._

The idea of saying the words out loud made them sound so pathetic. He couldn’t even imagine himself looking so damn ridiculous. Yuri could just burst out laughing at him and leave.  Flynn sighed and threw the pen away. Something soft and warm hit his fingers and a moment later his palm met the humid touch of Repede’s tongue. Whining, the dog sat next to him and placed his muzzle on his lap. Slowly petting his fur, Flynn tried to get a hold of himself.

« I’m sorry,» he murmured, the tone of his voice distant and unknown to his own ears. He had never heard himself sound so frantic.


End file.
